


Summer Love

by Chips2



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Holidays, M/M, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2018-11-06 09:12:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 95,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11033151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chips2/pseuds/Chips2
Summary: Dad comes back with two beers in hand. He hands one each to Even and me.“So how are your parents?” He asks.“Yeah. Good." Even says. "They have stopped coming here for summer. They're in the Seychelles right now.” He looks at me. “I came with friends this year.”“No girlfriend?”WTF, Dad?I cough and mumble, “Personal. Much. Dad?”“No." Even says. "No girlfriend. So.”I dare a glance at him and he is STARING RIGHT AT ME- like blue bright fucking arrows.  I look away. I can’t govern what comes out of my dad’s mouth. Is that why he is looking at me like that? Why is he looking at me like that?========Even has just finished University. He decides to spend summer at his parent's holiday house in the Norwegian countryside where he has been coming since childhood. He knows Isak, one of the locals, who has recently graduated from high school and is spending his break helping his dad out at his kayak shop.Two boys from different backgrounds, both embarking on new chapters in their lives who find their worlds intertwined during their holidays and on one particularly hot summer break.





	1. The One Where Even Goes to the Kayak Shop Alone and Meets Isak and Tiny is Sleeping

**Author's Note:**

> Can't seem to stop writing. Had this thought while I spend my bank holiday in the Yorkshire Dales so here it is. I was thinking about doing a single chapter thing but I think it has legs and so it will probably be a mini-multi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning- there will be smut in later chapter/s

                    

  **This Summer- Isak**

It’s summer so our quiet village is overrun by tourists. I love it and hate it. Tourists are good for business. They tip well which means I get extra cash. Extra cash means I’m able to chase my dreams. But some tourists are selfish. They don’t respect our home; the environment and peace of our village and its natural surroundings. They forget that this is not a playground. People live here.

I live here.

The door to the shop opens and I have to bury my groan. I was literally just about to go on my lunch break with Tiny who is currently fast asleep in the corner of the shop. Oh well. Lunch will have to wait. I look up and my eyes widen. I know the guy who walks up to the counter. I have seen him every summer for two to three weeks at a time for as long as I can remember. And I obviously remember him from what happened last year; that thing that I am still wrapping my head around.

He used to come to the village with his parents. They have a sprawling summer house up on the hill with ridiculously gorgeous views of the village, undulating hills and fjord. So in a weird way I have seen him grow into adulthood. He is a man now. I guess I am too. I mean, I turn eighteen soon.

For the past three years he has been coming with university friends rather than his family. Last year he came with five guys. City boys. All looking polished as fuck like they just came out of a high life magazine photo shoot.

 

                      

 

Designer sunglasses. Preppy clothes. Expensive watches. Crisp shorts. Smart belts. Deck shoes. Golden tans which I would bet were picked up from lazing on the beach not from hard graft in the sun. Privileged kids living a lifestyle that I can’t relate to. Fast sports cars. Meals out in fancy restaurants. Jet set lifestyle. They all looked so fucking entitled; like they knew whatever they desired would drop into their laps if they clicked their fingers. Our modest kayak shop looked cheap when contrasted with them. I hated them and the way they looked at my dad's simple but successful place of work.

And although he has never said or done anything to debase me I particularly hated _HIM_ for making me feel inferior.

Even Bech Næsheim.

This year he looks to be alone. He is on the phone as he approaches the counter. His middle finger of the same hand is dangling some car keys - fucking luxury vehicle.

“Hello, Isak.” He says to me; casually, as if it hasn't been a whole year since we last saw each other. He continues his phone call before I have the chance to greet him back. He is all smiles. “... No! You can't tempt me! I told you I’m not coming because I like it here. You don't expect you to understand... yeah... have fun though... and tell Tomas to take it easy!!... Yeah tell me all about it when we meet up.” He chuckles. “In two weeks time, bro... Yeah!... Yeah... I promise I'll be there!! You know I'm not going to miss out on St Lucia, baby! ... Okay. Cool. Bye.”

He pockets his phone and looks at me.

Ugh. I hate him. I hate everything he represents; spending his parent’s money on holiday after holiday.

He lifts his shades up off his face, places them on his head and his eyes crinkle with a smile.

“Hi, Isak.” He chuckles. "I already said that, didn't I!"

His eyes are so fucking blue like the fjord behind our shop... but they are stupid eyes. 

“Hi.” I clear my throat. _Be professional._

I think he has grown taller. Why? And why is he looking so good? Like better than last year even. Why do my cheeks feel hot?

“So you’re back.” I state the obvious.

“Yeah. Miss me?”

Ugh. What?! No!

“I was kidding." He says, taking my expression in. "Chill. So just me then. Okay.”

He winks at me then nods as he looks around the shop. “Looks like your dad has refurbished the place. Nice!”

                     

“Actually dad and I did a lot of it together.” And I also came up with the idea of building a cafe to the side of the kayak shop. It is nearly done actually. Just needs some cosmetic things done to it before we open for business- lick of paint, moving the furniture in, etc. But I don’t need to prove myself to him so I don’t mention it.

“Cool.  I just drove in today and thought I’d come straight here... hit the fjord.”

“Dad and Mari are already doing tours and Tore is off sick so-”

“I’m down with going with you.”

Shit.

“Okay. Um. You know I can't. And anyway you know the area. You don’t need a guide.”

“I fancy one though. Come unofficially. I could do with the company.”

Fuck.

I swallow hard and think of a way to put him off the idea. "It'll cost you though."

He smiles. "That's cool."

“Right. Yeah. Sure. Okay.” Of course. How was money going to be a hurdle he couldn't overcome? I look behind him, anxious now. Does this mean I will have to be ALONE with him? Shit. “So no one else coming?”

Please. Please. Please say yes. 

His smile drops and the twirling of his car keys around his finger stops. “No. Sorry to disappoint you. This time it’s just me.”


	2. The One Where The City Boys Hit the Country and Even Reunites with Isak and Tiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This happens the summer before Chapter 1

**Last Summer- Even**

 

It was a mistake to bring the boys. They’re cool but they don’t really fit into this part of my life. Rural life. Nature. Peace and quiet. Simplicity. These are foreign concepts to the five of them. But I love this corner of Norway. It carries the best memories of my childhood; the undulating hills, our holiday home and the fjord.  

Maybe that is why I find myself drawn back to the kayak shop time and time again.  It sits right next to the water in a picture perfect spot with the most beautiful views.

When I am here I feel like I can breathe easy and just be me.

Well, normally.

With my friends here I am wearing a bit of a mask. The mask of a guy who gives a fuck about looking good and being seen with the right people in the right places.

Who actually gives a fuck though?

Mum and dad always tell me that all the stuff we have is just that; stuff. Material possessions that they work very hard for and are grateful for but that they never take for granted. I have been brought up to appreciate my life; to not act like a spoiled kid. I have two jobs, have done since going to upper high school. But I don’t need the money. I am fortunate. In exchange for working, and while I remain a student, my parents pay all my expenses. My car. My phone. My apartment in Oslo. My existence.

That sounds terrible, doesn’t it? There are those who will see me as an entitled prick but I am honestly not.  Or at least I try not to be.

I know I am lucky and maybe it’s guilt over that fact that has resulted in me giving most of what I earn through my jobs to a company that organises extra-curricular activities for disadvantaged kids in Oslo. The rest has been going into a savings account. It’s mostly for a present I have been saving up for. After I graduate next summer my expenses will be my own responsibility. No more bank of mum and dad. I’ll be working for the family company. Real estate. I will be trained up to oversee the management of our Scandinavian properties. 

This is my penultimate summer of fun before the responsibility of adult life fucks me up.

So here I am on holiday and I am set to have fun. Back in my favourite spot on the planet... Right here in my happy place.  

I get out of my car and wait while the rest of my city boy squad park up and alight their vehicles.

The kayak shop.

“Mate, seriously?” Tomas says as he takes his sunglasses off and takes in the rustic barn-like structure that the shop operates from. “What is this?” 

“I told you, you guys could have gone ahead to the restaurant and I could have joined you later.”

I had really wanted to see Isak alone.  Say hi. It’s been a year after all.

“And miss out on seeing the side-chick you’re hiding up here in the countryside?!”

Not sure why my laugh is nervous. “For the last time, I’m not hiding a side-chick!”

I’m not!

“Then why are you acting so shady? You've had that stupid grin on your face all morning!”

“That's because we managed to get a table at _Bekkjarvik_ at short notice.” I lie. “Look I’m literally just saying hi to someone I know and booking us in for kayaking tomorrow.”

“Why don’t we just rent a yacht?” He asks.

“Exactly.” Julian moans. "Or I can get mine brought over."

“I’m down for that.” Erik chips in.

I tut. “Uh. Guys. No. This is where it’s at. I do this every summer. It’s fun!”

“Even likes to do kayaking and I like to do chicks… lots of them!” Erik laughs.

“Exactly!” Tomas chips in. “Where are the chicks, dude?”

“You want chicks?” I ask.

Five nods.

“You shouldn’t be nodding Ismail. You’ve got a girl.”

“So do you!”

“It’s not a thing.” I mumble. It’s complicated. “Anyway if you want chicks I’ll introduce you to T.”

Erik raises an interested eyebrow. “T?”

I nod. “Tall. Dark hair. Active. Super affectionate. Very attractive.”

“Like her already.” Alec smirks.

“But you still have to kayak tomorrow.”

Five groans.

“It’ll be fun! Kayaks are more environmentally friendly than yachts. Remember the environment? Remember nature?”

“Vaguely.” Julian mumbles. “Fuck though.”

“Come on let’s get booked in.” We walk into the store and it appears quiet.

 

                     

 

No customers and just Tore reading a comic book behind the counter.

No Isak. I double check. Scan the room. No. No Isak.

“Hi.” I shake hands with Tore. “How are things?”

Tore is basically an ageing hippie; still acts like he is in his early twenties even though he is pushing 50. He thinks life is one big conspiracy theory.  He supplies good pot though so.

“Welcome back, Even. You’ve brought friends.”

“Yeah. Guys, this is Tore. He has been working at the store forever. He knows everything there is to know about kayaks and the fjords.”

“True that. Are you guys planning to go kayaking today?  Great day for it. Fucking hottest summer on record _they_ say. At least that’s what _the man_ says. But I say fuck _the man_. I remember a summer where it pushed 43 degrees Celsius… can’t be more than thirty today..."

O. K.

“Is Isak here?”

I look through the window at the back of the shop, looking for a familiar mop of unruly blond curly hair with or without baseball cap. Checking out for skinny tanned limbs poking out of a vest top and shorts. Hearing out for that laugh that is somewhere between the bleat of a goat and the chirp of a bird.  

                    

There are beached kayaks and paddles on the trimmed green grass and beyond that water as far as the eye can see with green hills either side. Some punters are already on the water paddling away in the distance.

No Isak.

“No.”               

“Will he be back soon? Is he coming in today?” I ask.

“What?”

“Isak.”

“Oh. Yes. He’s just gone out to help paint David’s fence. His eyesight’s not so good now. David’s not Isak’s!” Tore barks a laugh. “Isak should be back any minute now.”

As if on cue there is commotion at the door and Isak is dragged into the shop by Tiny who is on a leash but clearly running the show.  

He stops dead in his tracks when he sees me and I feel my heart thud.

“Hi.” I say.

“Hi.” He looks at my friends then back at me then down at his clothes. “I didn’t know you were coming into town this week.”

“We arrived yesterday.”

He looks good. I mean he looks... healthy. Objectively speaking. His skin’s got that sun kissed look.

He is in cut-off blue jeans, frayed at the knee where he has cut them into shorts. There are small white paint splatter marks on them. A simple white t-shirt with muddy paw marks on it, flip flops and sun-kissed blond hair covered by a front facing baseball cap finish his look.

Physically he is different to last summer. He is flying through a growth spurt. He is inches taller than last year. The fullness in his cheeks has all but gone giving his face the first hint of the ruggedly handsome man he will be once puberty is completely behind him. Not that he isn’t nice looking now. He is very nice looking... Objectively speaking. And although he has always been slim he has developed muscle definition... at least from what I can see of his arms.

... Not that I am staring at them or anything but they are tense from the effort of keeping Tiny under control. Tiny who looks to be at least 130 pounds of pure muscle now. She tries to make a dash for me. That makes me happy because everytime I return after a year’s absence I assume that she might forget me. It’s dumb really because it’s not like we are a big part of each other’s lives.

“Hi big girl!” I pet her and her tail wags like crazy. She is a slobbery excited mess as she gets onto her hind legs and puts her front paws on my t-shirt nearly toppling me over.  She is practically my height when on two legs. What the fuck!  

“Hey! Missed you too!” I laugh as I try to avoid the licks from her large wet tongue. I love this dog and I feel intrinsically linked to her which makes sense I guess because I have known her since she was a puppy. “Good girl!”

“Fuck me!  That’s a beast!” Ismail, one of my mates, says as he slightly backs away.

“Say hi to T!” I laugh.

“That’s T?” Erik groans. “Motherfucker!”

I laugh. “Yeah, T for Tiny. But she only has eyes for me so you’re out of luck, guys.”

“Get off Even, Tiny!” Isak tries to pull her back.

“It’s okay.” I say.

“She’ll mess up your top.”

“It’s fine. I’ve got another one in the car. You just want to say hello, don’t you?” I rub both of Tiny’s ears and we have a play for a short while. But the fun must end. There is someone I have missed more than her so I say firmly,

“Alright. Now. Sit. ”

She gets down immediately.

“Good girl.” Isak and I say at the same time.

He looks over at me while we pet the dog. Green eyes.

My throat feels like it’s closing up.

Ismail laughs. “Tiny?! Ha! Funny!”

I smile at Isak while stroking under Tiny’s chin. “We thought it was ironic for a Great Dane. Right, Isak?”

“Right.” He grins and pets his dog.

“We were on our way to lunch and thought we’d swing past.” I tell him.

Tomas eye rolls. “Lies! Even said he HAD to see you so we had to come all the way here first.”

“What?!” For fuck’s sake Tomas! “What?! Ha! No! Ha! That’s not true. And it’s on our way.”

Erik- “Dude, it’s really not on the way.”

Ismail- “It’s in the fucking opposite direction.”

Alec- “We’ll probably be late at this point.”

Julian- silent.

I cough. “It’s kind of on our way. So anyway. Here we are. Hello.”

“You want to book in for Kayak?”

“No. I mean, Yes!”

“Six of you?”

So he’s just going to get right down to business, huh? Okay. “Yes. With a guide. Tomorrow. Whole day.”

He looks at the diary. “Sorry. We can’t do the whole day. Dad, Mari and Tore are all booked at some point and I can’t shuffle them around to free one of them up for the whole day. You could go by yourselves if your friends are certified.”

Five shakes of the head.

“I’m the only one certified.” I say.

“Or pick another day?”

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah. Be our guide.”

“I’m seventeen.”

“And?”

“Legally I can’t, Even.”

“What a shame... We’ll have to go for the yacht!” Erik smirks.

Five chuckles.

Isak looks hurt and I want to punch the lads.

I look at them. “Okay.” Fuck. “Do you guys really not want to kayak.”

Five Nos.

“Fine.” I shrug at Isak. “They don’t know what they are missing.”

His grin is lopsided.

It makes me forget what I was about to say or do next.

“Mate, we’ve got to go. Or they’ll cancel our reservation.” Alec points at his watch. “What exactly are we doing here?”

Good question. I am not sure. I guess I just wanted to speak with isak. To see him. To hear him. To ...touch him. I wanted to be my playful summer self- but with my friends here I feel like I can’t.

“Okay. Let’s go.” I say. “It was good seeing you. Isak.”

“You too.”

He doesn’t feel as open to me. His manner is guarded. Distant.

I pull him into a hug. Bro pat. Hands fisted in a handshake. Backs firmly patted. A brief chest to chest bump. Not like our normal hug. We are both play acting.

“Felt like ages.” I whisper for his ears only before I release him.

“Like about a year.” His eyes are playful.

“Something like that.” Casually- “What are your plans tonight? Are you going to be home?”

“Yeah. Just chilling.”

“Uh. Mate, don’t forget. We have plans tonight.” Alec reminds me.

Fuck those plans.

“This won’t take long.” I turn back to Isak.  “Can I swing round later?  I have your birthday present.”


	3. The One Where Even Is Late for Isak and Late for the Gala and His Present is OTT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slow burn.

                  

 

** Last Summer- Isak **

It’s an abnormally hot night and I feel ridiculously warm. I pull my vest top away from my chest and fan it to get a breeze to my face. Dad and I are sitting at home; outside in the backyard on some old chairs looking at the sky as the light starts to fade and day turns into night. He is nursing a beer while I nurse my thoughts.

“Days are getting longer.” Dad mutters. “Still light… …"

He looks over at me. "… Isak?”

“Yes.”

“You’re quiet tonight.”

“Um.”

“I said you’re quiet.”

“Tired.” I shrug. Even said he’d be coming over tonight but he hasn’t.

"I was saying that the days seem long."

“Well they aren't. They're getting shorter again so.”

I am being grumpy.  Not fair on dad but whatever.

That tall friend of Even’s said they had plans tonight so Even has obviously forgotten about me. On what planet did I really think he would come spend time with me when he could be doing something super cool and/or sophisticated with those asshole friends of his?

Dad takes a sip of his beer and smacks his lips. That is his show of appreciation.  He is a man who enjoys simple pleasures in life like sitting down at the end of a long hard day of work in peace and quiet. I think I take after him in that sense. We are also similar because we are introverts and loners. A clutch of friends maybe but we tend to spend a lot of time on our own.

“How long's the longest day of the year this year?”

“Sunrise at 03:54 and Sunset at 22:43. So 18 hours and 49 minutes of sun... on Tuesday 21st June.”

Dads jaw drops. “Shit!”

I give him a nod.

“It was on your birthday?”

“Yeah. It’ll be on my birthday next year too.”

He grins at me. “So you’ll turn eighteen on a summer solstice. Pretty cool, no, for a science geek!”

“Yeah.” I smile back.

He lifts his hands up. “I mean science geek in a non-offensive, non-bullying way. I know how easily offended kids get nowadays!”

I roll my eyes. He has a point when it comes to some of the kids at my school. Literally everything winds them up. “Yeah. Right! We’re talking about me here.”

I embrace the geek in me. I am prepared to challenge and stand up to the fuckers who try to undermine me. I am no pushover victim. My geekiness is what will get me to the stars.

“Do you want a sip?” He stretches his hand out to me, beer can in my face.

"Isn't that setting a bad example."

"Everything in moderation."

I shake my head and show him my water bottle. “I’m good with water.”

He chuckles. “You think I don’t know that you, Jonas, Eva and Mahdi snuck some drinks in a few days ago.”

I nearly choke on my sip of water. “You mean orange juice and coke.” I act all innocent.

“Is that what Tuborg cans contain nowadays?”

Shit.

I look at him sheepishly.

“I found empty cans in the kitchen bin.” He looks disappointed. “When I was your age I managed to hide whole kegs of beer during my summer break… and I hid this from your grandma and grandpa for a solid year.” He points at the tattoo of a large ship at sea and compass which forms a sleeve on his left arm. “Although admittedly it wasn’t as big as this then.”

                           

He gives me a wink. “Don’t make it a habit though, yeah? The booze.”

“We won’t. It was just to celebrate school breaking for summer and my birthday.”

I remember Even and the birthday gift he promised me. Empty promises.

Dad’s smile falls. “What’s up, kid?”

“Nothing.”

“You think I’m going to buy that? I’ve known you 17 years. Spit.”

“Just some shit.” I pull my baseball cap low over my forehead so that it shields my eyes from dad’s gaze.

“Specifically?”

I try to think fast. I can’t say ‘Even’. Dad wouldn’t understand. To be honest I don’t understand. I don’t get why that guy, who looks to have grown into a standard spoiled rich kid, bothers me so fucking much.

“Someone on your mind?”

“What?! No!”

My heart is beating really hard. Can my dad hear it?

“You can talk to me about it.”

My vocal cords feel tight. “It’s nobody, dad.”

“It’s normal to fancy someone or to have a crush. You’re a young healthy lad.”

I DO NOT HAVE A CRUSH ON EVEN!  OR ANYONE ELSE!  What kind of nonsense is this?!  What LIES and ACCUSATIONS!

But I do think about Even sometimes. I think about him and I think of him and then thoughts pop into my head that I have to shake off, push aside and bury. I have to remind myself that he is just some guy I know... -ish. A guy I have known since I was a kid who rocks up into town once a year and hangs out with me a bit. That is probably why I think of him sometimes. Memories.

He is a… guy.

A GUY. Not a CHICK.

Dad.

Would.

Not.

Understand.

Dad stares at me so I push my baseball hat even lower. In my peripheral vision I see him nod and sit back in his chair.

“Tore told me Even is back in town.”

Casually I say, “Yeah. He showed up at the store with some friends.”

“Tore said he might be coming over here later.”

I shrug. Whatever. He’s not coming.

Dad sighs. “Um. Tore also mentioned-”

“Tore has been talking a lot.” I grumble.

“Yes. He said that we’re in for a heat wave.”

I push my hat back up, look up.  Not a single cloud as the sky darkens. “Yeah.” 

“So go on. What causes a heat wave, smarty pants?”

I glance at him. “You don’t care.”

“I do. And having my own living breathing encyclopaedia is handy because it makes me seem smart in front of my friends and more attractive to women!”

Dad does not need help with women. Growing up I have been witness to how some women make fools of themselves around him. Swooning and carrying on in his presence. So annoying. But for some reason he hasn't really dated much since mum left. I think he still misses her.

Obviously I love my mum but I think her and dad are chalk and cheese. She is the girl from the city who grew bored of life in the village and my dad is like me, someone who relishes in village life...

To an extent...

“Heat waves are caused by high pressure systems.” I raise my hands. “Air from higher levels in the atmosphere fall-” I drop my hands “-and as it falls it causes compression and slows the movement of air. That increases the temperature over the affected area like layering it with a blanket. There is little breeze. That and a lack of clouds means that the  area gets hit by strong sunlight. Heats it up even further. That’s it, basically.”

“So basically we’re going to die.”

“Basically.” I sigh. “I think I might go to bed.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Back at the shop tomorrow so.”

Dad looks at his watch. “But it’s only 21.21.”

There is the sound of a car driving over the gravel outside our house. Sports engine. Then a few moments later the doorbell rings.

Dad looks at me. Raises an eyebrow. “Must be Even.”

“Uh. What? Not sure.”

It's definitely him. I know the sound of his car.

Dad stands up and walks through the house to the front door.

I stand up in the backyard and feel my palms go sweaty. Wipe them on my shorts. Fuck. I look down at my cut-off jeans. I should have changed out of these paint spattered ones. At least I have a fresh vest on. I smell my armpits. And thank god I have had a shower.

Dad comes back through with a smile on his face.

“It _is_ Even.”

I can see that dad. Thanks for pointing out the obvious.  

Fuuuuuck.

I feel overheated. Must be this night heat. Fucking heat wave. Even throws me a smile and leans against the door frame leading to the porch. He is in black tie. What the hell and why and why does my mouth feel dry all of a sudden?

                             

“Hi.” He says.

“Hi. Hi.” I pick up my water bottle. Finish its contents. “Hi.”

_Stupid! Why are you repeating yourself?!_

“Want a beer?” Dad asks him.

“Yeah. Sure. Just one. Driving. Thank you.”

I nod like an idiot as dad leaves us alone.

Even winks at me but it’s not a wink really. It’s a blink for a man who does not know how to wink. And it makes me feel all soft on the inside.

“You didn’t think I was going to come.”

“What? No. I mean. It was whatever. I was just chilling with dad anyway. Looking at the sky. I wasn’t waiting or anything.” 

He grins and walks up to me.

Fuuuuuuck.

“I’ve brought your present.”

Why are his eyes so mischievous? Where the fuck is it?

Dad comes back and he has two beers in hand. He hands one each to Even and me.

“So how are your parents?” He asks.

“Yeah. Good. They have stopped coming here for summer. They prefer going abroad somewhere warmer. They're in the Seychelles right now.” He looks at me. “I came with friends this year.”

“No girlfriend?”

WTF, Dad?

I cough and mumble, “Personal. Much. Dad?”

“No. No girlfriend. So.”

I dare a glance at Even and he is STARING RIGHT AT ME- like fucking arrows to my chest. I look away. I can’t govern what comes out of my dad’s mouth. Is that why he is looking at me like that? Why is he looking at me like that?

I open my beer can, hear the fizz and suck up the foam that pours off the top. I accidentally inhale and start coughing. Shit. I feel my face go red. How embarrassing!

Even comes up to me and rubs my back. I pull away and clear my throat.

“You’re dressed nice.” Dad says.

“Yeah. We have a dinner thing. At the Stordalen’s.”

My dad’s eyebrows rise up. “The hotel family. Aren’t they doing a gala tonight?”

Even slips one hand into a pocket of his perfectly tailored trousers.

“Yeah. It’s at their home. They’re friends with mum and dad and they are the aunt and uncle of one of my mates so... It’s only polite. They’re just a few miles away.”

Elite hanging with elite. So fucking boring.  

“Shouldn’t you be there now?” I ask.

“I showed my face already. I’ll go back in a bit. Too many people there for anyone to miss me.” He shrugs. “I said I'd come to bring you your birthday present so here I am. It's heavy. Fredrik, would you mind giving us a hand to bring it to this porch?”

+++

It’s a fucking massive box covered in interstellar wrapping (nice touch given my interest). It weighs a tonne so dad suggests putting it on a trolley and dragging it to the porch via the path at the side of our house.

 

                     

 

Once we set it down on the ground he stretches out and looks at the time.

He looks shocked. “Shit!”

“What?”

He looks at Even and me. “I just remembered that I promised to go see David. Make sure he’s okay for the night.”

I frown. Since when has dad been going to check on David? “What?”

He turns to Even.

“His eyesight's failing. Bumps into things all the time.”

Dad shakes his head sadly.

I laugh. “What?!”

Even shakes his head too. “Tore said about his eyes. Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s not that bad!" I interject. "He just doesn’t see detail as well as he used to. He wanted help with painting some corners so that he didn’t go over the edges.”

They ignore me.

Dad inhales, “Yes. Anyway. Better go. You kids have fun.”

+++

Even got me a fucking telescope.

A TELESCOPE. Exclamation mark.

I’m not talking about one of those entry level ones. I am talking one of those crazy ones. Telescope on steroids. Expensive. That is what keeps flying around in my mind. Money. Cost. I feel in debt to him now even though it has probably barely made a dent in his funds. It would take me ages to afford this for myself. It’s a ridiculously extravagant present.

He took his black suit jacket, bow tie and crisp white shirt off and laid them carefully over the back of a chair before getting stuck into assembling it with me in his suit trousers and undershirt. We have spent the better part of an hour on it and it’s now finished.

I am surprised at how handy he is- completely familiar and at ease with the contents of a tool box. So as he slips his shirt back on, buttons it up- leaving the top two buttons open- and hangs his untied bow tie around his neck, I say,

"I didn't think you'd know the right way to hold a screwdriver."

 

                        

 

“Why?” He asks.

“You have people who can help you do things.”

“Yeah. When I wake up in the morning I have a dude who brings me breakfast in bed then carries me to the bathroom and brushes my teeth. Then he gives me my morning wank and bathes me before I go to class.”  

“What?” I feel my cheeks go red.

His eyes widen.

“Don’t you employ someone to give you a morning wank? Or is that just a rich kid thing?” He shakes his head. Looks a bit angry. “I am not some entitled asshole, Isak.”

“I never said you were.”

“You didn’t have to.”

I shrug.

He nudges me. "I'm still stupid Even. Who tried to make you laugh by pulling stupid faces and by pretending to trip up over nothing."

I remember that. I used to find that hilarious.

"You're not stupid." I feel a bit bad. But just a bit because he still has a pretty fucking flash life and also… “You do realise that normal people don’t give people presents like fucking telescopes. FYI.”

“They don’t?” His mouth creases up.

So mine does too.

“No. Jonas gave me a book on asteroids. Eva gave me tickets to the cinema and a t-shirt. Mahdi gave me a hug and an apology.”

“Oh. So I could have gotten away with giving you a hug?”

I grin. “Yep.”

“Good to know. Wait.” He pretends to make a phone call, “Yeah. Hi. Daniel, I need you to call off the fireworks, the horse-drawn carriage, trip to NASA and the year-long supply of Nikes for that guy I was telling you about." Even is such a dork though. My smile broadens. "Yeah. Apparently it’s over the top and he doesn't want them. And you will need to come over tomorrow morning to pick up the telescope...”

I laugh and try to take the phone off him. "No! Not the telescope!"

He keeps me at arms length while calmly 'pretend' speaking into the phone. "Yeah. He hates it...!"

"I don't!"

"... Just dump it in the skip..."

"Noooooo!" I moan.

He smiles at me. "No?"

"No." 

And that is when I realise that I am all over him, hand clutching his top while the other reaches for his phone but he has height advantage. I peel myself off him.

"No. I'll keep the telescope."

He speaks into the phone. "Actually scrap that. The telescope stays. The rest can go." He is about to put the phone away before he says, "Oh by the way I'll need you to drive up here anyway to wank me off tomorrow morning because I am a rich kid who can't do shit for myself."  

He puts his phone on silent and tucks it into his back pocket.

“Idiot.” I say but I'm smiling.

"What. That was real. That's Daniel. My man slave."

"Hahaha."

“But can you imagine if there _was_ someone who would give you a wank or a blow job when you wanted one or when they fancied giving you one?”

Fuuuuuck. What?! Did the heat go up again? Why do I feel my cheeks going red? Why is he talking about hand jobs and blow jobs with me???

“I think they are called hook ups or a girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?”

I hesitate then nod. “Yeah.”

“Right.”

He drops the playfulness, does up the rest of his shirt and ties his bow.

I stroke my fingers along the length of the scope. “I feel like this is a joke or something. Like what the fuck. You got me a telescope.”

He nods. “Yep.”

“The fuck.”

“Not the reaction I hoped for but okay.”

I look at him and realise that it is almost completely dark now. I should turn the porch lights on but I don’t. I can see his silhouette now but the detail of his face has faded with the dark.  It makes it easier to creep on him and to talk to him without feeling that knot in my stomach.

“I love it, Even. It's the best present ever. And I feel like I should be saying something like I can’t accept it but fuck that!”

He chuckles.

We are standing side by side. In the darkness this feels intimate. I feel more aware of him. Of his movements. Of his smell. He looks over to me and gives me that smile of his.

Oh boy.

“I read that you can see celestial bodies much easier on a clear night.” Even says, his voice low.

I touch the scope. True. I glance through its eye piece. “Let me have a play with this thing.”

“Dick joke.” He winks at me when I roll my eyes at him.

“Remind me who the adult is here?”

“You?”

“Right answer.”

I turn my attention back to my new toy. I point the telescope towards the object of my interest in the sky and adjust knobs to magnify and focus. “I’m going to need to spend some time with it and get to know it better.”

“You should give it a name.”

“Yeah. Good idea. What were you thinking?”

“Evan?” His grin is like a child's.

If I leaned forward just a few inches I could kiss him.

Weird thought.

Stupid thought.

Bury that shit, Isak.  

I look over at him again and narrow my eyes. “Sounds a lot like Even.”

“Does it? Purely coincidental.”

“Evan.”

“Evan. Yeah.”

I look back through the telescope. I have the image squared up, filling my field of view and powered to 60. Not bad for a first go.

“What are you looking at?”

I jump because Even’s voice is right in my ear. He laughs. "So jumpy!"

I clasp my chest. “Personal space! Fuck!”

I can’t take it when he is this fucking close to me. I can't! When did that become a thing? I wasn't this bad last summer. We were chill then. But right now I feel as if I can’t breathe. I feel like I can’t look him square in the eye and that if I do it will be too much or that he will read something in my expression that I do not want him to read. Something that might freak him out. I don’t understand what is happening to me. It’s fucking bullshit.  

“Have a look.” I point at the eyepiece and I step aside.

“Yes boss.” He leans forward. Looks intent. God, he is tall. And I thought I’d had a growth spurt.  

 

                      

 

“That’s the moon.” He points out. 

“Yep.”

He shakes his head without moving his eye from the lens. “So let me get this straight. I give you a super fancy telescope to see the fucking moon!?”

“Wait.” I push him aside. Make some adjustments. Zoom in. Focus some more. THIS IS UNREAL! Zoom in even more. WHAT!!!!

“But have you ever seen it like this?”

He has another look. And that gives me a chance to study him in detail without fear of getting caught.  

                   [](http://users.aber.ac.uk/atc/moonwatch/scope_files/image018.jpg)

“No.”

“Exactly.” I check out the way his hair curls around his ear. The slope of his nose. The gentle smile that appears on his lips. The curve of his neck as he cranes it to see through my gift. His slim body. Long arms. Long legs. His hands. Nice hands.

“Not many people see it like this, like, unless they’ve seen a picture or something but that’s not the same. Look at the craters, rills, shadows, ejecta plumes, all the details.”

“Ejecta what?”

He stands up straight and I look away quickly. Close shave. Nearly got caught looking.

“You’re right.” He says. His gaze penetrates my soul.

"What?"

“Beautiful... The moon, I mean. It’s beautiful.”

There is a pregnant pause. A thickness in the air.

I stroke Evan. “I think it’s incredible. Like sometimes the most fascinating and beautiful things are right there in front of you and you’ve known them forever but when you see them through a different lens, like the moon through this lens, they have a totally different meaning. It’s like seeing it with fresh eyes.”

Why is he looking at me like that?

“Even?”

“Yes. I know what you mean.” He whispers.

I smile. “Why are you whispering?”

“I don’t know.”

I chew my lip. I'm geeking too hard. I need to rein it in.

“I've missed this. It’s cool hanging out like this.” He is still whispering but it sort of fits the moment so.

“Yeah.”

“You’re cool to hang out with.”

Yeah. Sure.

"I beat yachts and nice restaurants and hot chicks and shit.” I am being sarcastic of course.

"Maybe."

Then I remember. “Your gala.”

“Oh shit!” He looks panicked. Looks at the time. “Shit!” He grabs his black jacket and flings it on. “I’ve got to go! Fuck!”

I walk him to his car. He gets in, lowers the window and revs the engine.

“Show off.” I smile as I lean my hands on his open window.

“I’m trying to impress you.”

Whaaaa-

“Kidding.” He eases up on the gas. He makes me feel like he is playing with me. Toying around with me. It's disconcerting. “That wouldn’t impress you anyway, would it?”

“CO2 emissions aren't sexy.”

Fact.

He nods. “I am the worst.”

“You are.” But I want to take that back because he isn’t the worst. Not even close. “Kidding. You’re alright. I like you.”

“Phew. Coming from you that means a lot.”

I smile and he grips his steering wheel harder.

“Better go.”

“See you.”

I don’t want him to go but I force myself to remove my hands from his car. He blinks at me but doesn't set off.

"Are you going or what?" I ask.

He pauses. Then unexpectedly reaches his hand out to touch my cheek.

"Yeah. I'm going."

Then he hits the accelerator and drives off.

It is only when I get back to the porch that I realise that I haven’t even said thank you for my present.

 


	4. The One Where Isak Gives a Compliment, Even lies and Eva confuses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *face palm*  
> *shakes head*
> 
> Also confession- I have brought Even's arrival this Summer back by a week so that Isak's birthday is to come. Sorry but hopefully it'll help the narrative (probably should have mapped this story out before starting it but oh well).

**This Summer- Even**

Isak looks over at me as we walk to the yard at the back of the shop. I smile at him and he looks away, avoids my gaze. He picks up his pace and beelines towards the kayaks.

He looks like he would rather be anywhere but here with me and I don’t get it. Every summer I look forward to coming out to the village, and yes, to see Isak. And he has always seemed happy to see me so the way he is being with me doesn’t make sense, especially after what happened the last time I was here.

I don’t get it.

I really thought that…

“I only think I can manage a quick one.” He says, interrupting my thoughts, and still not looking at me. “I mean, a quick paddle… with you. I can’t be long. Like an hour max.”

“Okaaaay.” He has proved my point. He can’t wait to get away from me.

“Date?” I force a smile. I nudge him teasingly and he jumps as though I have electrocuted him.

“Huh?”

“The reason why you can’t kayak for too long.  Do you have a date?”

                  

 

We stop by the shed where Isak, his father and the staff keep their personal kayaks and the paddles and life jackets.

His movements stiffen as he picks up our paddles and life jackets from within and passes me mine. “No. No date. Um… It’s just that I’ve had to lock the shop up while I’m gone so we won't get any revenue from it while we're away.”

Fuck. I didn’t even think about that. I am spoilt; putting my wish to catch up with him over his duty to maintain his family's business. With pay or without that is selfish of me. No wonder he thinks I am a spoiled brat. I can't have him thinking that.

“Oh. Shit." I say out of the blue.

“What?”

I hand him back the life jacket and paddle. “I completely forgot that there is something that I need to do. I can't stay. It's an... errand... for my parents.”

“Do you have to do it now?”

“Yeah.” I pat his shoulder. “That works out for you, yeah? We can catch up some other time.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

He looks like a cute Viking warrior standing there with the two paddles punching the ground either side of him. But like a Viking warrior that is having a shitty day because there is a frown on his face.

"Why are you frowning?" I ask.

"I'm not. Sun's glare."

He gives me a small smile and I force myself to walk away and leave him be. “I'll call you.”

“Yeah.”

And a second later I trip over my own feet and fall to the ground, hitting it a little harder than I had intended.

“Even!” Isak shouts. The paddles he was holding hit the ground and he sprints towards me.

I spring onto my feet in a split second and exaggeratedly dust myself off. I throw him a goofy grin.

"Did you just fake that?! Idiot!” He says with relief in his voice.

“No! I didn't!”

“I thought you actually fell, Even! That’s not funny!!” But he laughs because he has always found me fake falling unbelievably funny for some reason. Silly little cute fool.

“You're laughing.”

“I’m not!” As he wipes tears of laughter from his face.

“Your ground’s uneven by the way. Dangerous!”

“It’s not!”

“It is! I almost fractured something. Look at this bruise.”

He sighs with a big smile on his face. “You’re so corny.”

“You like my corniness.”

“I don’t know why I find you falling so funny!”

“I don’t either!" I pretend to be offended. "I could have really hurt myself, Isak! I could have ruined my face! Can you imagine that?!”

"What are you saying? That it would ruin your looks? That you're handsome?” Isak has a twinkle in his eyes as he walks up to me.

“I’ll have you know that I am a catch.”

I am joking around. I don't go around thinking this of myself but equally I have never struggled to attract romantic interest and I know that people around me consider me and my group of friends 'eligible' whatever that means. I know that big part of my appeal is my parent's money and my perceived status. As a result, I have been raised to look out for gold diggers and have always been cautious of any attention I get. 

"You must be a catch too." I say.

IDIOT!  WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF COMMENT IS THAT?!

"Country boys are on another level compared to us city boys with your sun-kissed skin and sun-bleached hair… and fresh carefree look-”  _SHUT UP, EVEN!!!!_ “-but I am a grade A male … for the city.”

What the fuck is coming out of my mouth? Where am I going with this?! I know. I'm fetching. Putting out feelers to figure out what Isak is thinking. What he thinks of me after what happened last year.

“I can imagine. Girls all over you like in some hip hop music video.”

“Is that what you think?"

His cheeks go red. “You have a nice face. Maybe city girls are into that.”  

“Was that a compliment?”

He purses his lips. "No! It was a comment."

“If it was a compliment, it was a shit compliment!"

"It was a comment." He grins.

"Do you want me to teach you how to give good compliments?” When did I get right up next to him? So close that I can see his pupils widen in HD.

“Okay.  At the same time I can teach you how to lie properly." He whispers.

"What do you mean?"

"Just now when you said you had errands to run for your parents. I know you were lying."

Sprung. Touché, Isak. Touché. "How?"

"I can always tell."

This is one of the reasons I like him. He is so smart. So sharp. Funny and serious. Intelligent and goofy. Active and studious. Someone you can’t label and put into a pigeon hole.

I am amazed that for all his brightness he can’t read me and how I feel about him.

I give him a feeble grin. 

"What is it this time? Another boat party? Charity do? Car show?"

"No. Nothing. I don't have plans today. I wanted to stay but then I realised that I was fucking up your dad's business by asking you to paddle with me so I came up with that lame excuse. Honestly, I'll probably drop in on my neighbours and then settle in at home now."

"Oh."

"Yeah.  There. That's the truth. I’ll leave you to re-open the shop.”

"Thanks."

There is a beat, then he pulls me into a hug. One of our hugs. A proper hug. The kind where I feel one hundred percent comfortable. Where I feel like I could just stay in it forever. Which is why I pull away. Quickly. I clear my throat.

“Thanks.” He says again.

"No problem."

He pulls his baseball cap down to shield his eyes from mine. 

I feel a squeeze in my heart but that squeeze turns into a stab as I approach my car and I see Eva walk up to the shop.

“Even! You’re back!”  She throws her arms around me.

“Hi Eva.”

“Is Isak here?”

“Yeah. Round the back.”

Eva is a lovely girl but I have struggled to ever like her.  It is not her fault. It is just that she is pretty and vibrant and smiley and nice and wholesome. And there is something in the intimacy of her relationship with Isak that grates on me.  They literally do everything together; school, social clubs, kayaking, straight up hanging out…

All year round.

It irks me.

And she tends to be on the tip of his tongue as much as he is on the tip of hers.

“Were you guys hanging out?” She asks.

“I just came to say hi.”

Eva raises an eyebrow.  “He must have liked that.”

I shrug and put on my shades. I can’t read him the way I used to be able to.

“He called me this morning and said that he’d be at the shop all day so I thought I’d come to hang out with him for a bit while he works.” She digs her hands into her jean shorts. God, they even dress alike. “He is a great guy, isn’t he? I honestly love him to bits.”

“Okay.”

Are they together? Would I even be surprised if they were? They are a perfect fit after all. He is a female version of her but more introverted.

“We should hang out.” Eva says excitedly. “I was thinking about throwing him a surprise for his 18th Birthday. Mahdi is out of town but Jonas will be around. Wanna join?”

“Thanks but I’m not sure if Isak would want me there. I’m not as close to him as you are.”

She laughs. “Well of course not but he likes you. Let me take your mobile number and I’ll let you know.”

 

+++

I spent the rest of the afternoon like a walking cliché. I played angsty music through the house's sound system so that everywhere I went a sad soundtrack followed me.

Painted to sad music. Crept on my social media to sad music. Whatsapped with my friends to sad music (pretending to have a whale of a time). Had a swim to sad music. Took a shit and a shower and had a wank to sad music. And now I am eating to sad music.

I look at the clock on the wall of the dining room when my phone rings.

**20.07**

Outside the light is starting to fade.

                     

I turn the music system off through my phone's app and pick up.

“Hi mum.”

“Hi, baby boy. Just checking in. What time is it over there?”

“Just gone eight pm. You?”

When we are in different time zones we always start our conversations like this.

“Just after eleven. Your dad’s asleep but I thought I’d ring you before I bedded down for the night. It sounds quiet where you are? Are you not out?”

“I’m at home.”

“Really? Alone?”

“Lisen was here earlier. She made me dinner.”

I look down at my plate of summer salad as I sit at the dining table set for one. It’s a Turkish affair but the couscous has been replaced with quinoa. Mum has clearly told her to cook healthy stuff for me.

“Why didn’t you go out for dinner?”

“I didn’t feel like it.”

“I hate it when you are alone, Even. In that house. It’s not too late to join us or your friends. ”

Right now the Seychelles and St Lucia seem like better prospects than the village but I lie to her.

“It’s fine.” Honestly, it’s not.

This is not how I imagined these two weeks would be and given that today is just day one of my stay I am feeling pretty fucking low. I think Isak and Eva are together. I guess I had created a fantasy in my head where that wasn't the case. That fantasy was built on hope and misinterpreted signals. I couldn’t have been more wrong about my chances with Isak.

“That’s what you said when you were anything but fine. I’m not saying I don’t trust you... but I don’t trust you.”

I smile. “Fair enough. But I am honestly okay. It’s not like before. It’s just things aren’t going how I hoped.”

“With Isak?”

“Yup.” I take a bite of my meal. Lisen is a great cook but this is like eating death and the destruction of dreams. “Mum, I am going to tell Lisen that I can cook for myself from now on.”

“That rubbish you make for yourself in Uni? No chance.”

“But I have become a really good cook. You’d be surprised.”

She chuckles. “Okay. Fine. I’ll let Lisen know but make sure you call her whenever you need her to make you anything.”

“I will.”

“So now tell me about Isak.”

I sigh. “I misread the signals.”

“How do you misread signals exactly? He liked you.”

“I thought he did. But I- I think he’s straight.”

Mum chuckles again. “Really?! But how… wait … hang on...Kristian...” She is speaking to dad. “Kristian!”

“Um. What?” Dad sounds half asleep.

“Even thinks Isak doesn’t like him.”

“Of course he likes him.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Then tell our son that he is being an idiot.  Can I go back to sleep now?”

“Yes…. baby boy?”

“Yes mum.”

“Did you hear what your father had to say?”

“You woke him up just to make a point?”

“Yes. And the point is that completely straight boys don’t go around tonguing other boys.”

“Ew. Tonguing? Really, mum?”

“Yes. Tonguing. Did Isak kiss you or not last summer?”

My fucking heart does a flip as I get a flashback of the moment, as if I am some child having a first crush. Ridiculous.

“I-” I remember that moment.

“We both just... kissed each other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading x


	5. The One Where Isak Hangs Out With Eva, Eva And His Dad Gang Up On Him And Isak And Even Text

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer nights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments. Have you guys got any thoughts on where this is going and what may have happened? I have finally got a set plot in mind *took long enough*!

** This Summer- Isak **

 

The evening has been replaced by night but it’s still warm and Eva and I are lying on our backs on a large blanket in my backyard. We are practically in pitch black now as we stare at the stars and share what’s on our minds.

Dad pops his head out of the door that leads to the house. He is back-lit; a tall silhouette in a doorway.

“Hey kid. Are you still out here?”

Eva and I crane our necks to look over at him.

“Yeah.”

“Hi, Martin.”

“Eva?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you’d gone home. It’s 23.47.”

“Still here. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. It’s just I can barely see you guys in the dark.  Why don’t you turn the garden lights on?”

Because lights spoil the beauty of the night.

 

            

 

The sky tonight is out of this world. Pun totally intended. Clear and still. Stars are shining brightly. It’s as though someone has hung countless tiny light bulbs against an infinite blue black tapestry.  

“We’re just talking.” Eva says as she takes my hand in hers.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes.”

“Isak?”

“Yes, dad. We were going to use the telescope in a bit. It’s better when it’s really dark.”

“Cool. Okay. It’s your summer.”

I smile because I know that when dad was my age he would not have stayed home looking at the sky. He would have been hanging out with friends and pulling girls.

“Well I’m going to sleep.”

“Night.”

“Isak.”

“Yes, dad?”

“Could you look at me for a second?”

I sigh, roll over and sit cross-legged on the blanket facing him.

“Talking of summer…” Dad clears his throat, “I really don’t need you at the shop for the next few days.”

“But Tore’s sick.”

“He’s better. He’s called to say he’s working tomorrow.”

“But I need the money, dad.”

When I go to Uni I don’t want to have to constantly come begging for handouts from him for my living expenses.  I want to know that I have at least contributed a chunk towards my years of study.

“I know you think you need the money.” He sighs. “But it’s your last summer before you go to Uni. You should be enjoying yourself with your friends.”

But if I am not at the kayak shop it’s unlikely that I’ll bump into Even. I know it makes no sense but I want to see him and at the same time I don’t.

“That’s what I’ve been telling him!” Eva volunteers unhelpfully. “We can work when we’re at Uni.”

“See Eva thinks so too!”

“Okay. Fine. I’ll take a few days off. Whatever.” I shrug.

Eva turns to me. “We should invite Even to hang out with us tomorrow.”

Her eyes glisten almost brighter than the stars above us.  She has her mischievous smile on.

“No.” I shake my head.

“I think that’s a great idea.” Dad says.

Eva nods. “I bumped into him at the shop today. He’s on his own this summer so I’m sure he’d welcome the company.”

“No.” I repeat.

“Why not?” She asks.

“He’ll be busy doing something”- _someone -_ “else. He always is.”

“Have you asked him?” Dad asks.

Why am I under attack? Double teamed by Eva and my dad.

“No, but why would he want to hang out with us when he could be, I don’t know, doing whatever guys like him do.”

“What do guys like him do, kid?”

Guys like him make boys like me confused. He makes me feel certain things, things that are overwhelming and he makes me feel giddy and warm and full of beautiful emotions. He puts a knot in my stomach. He steals my rational thoughts and replaces them with a deep desire for him. Against my will. I hate it. Guys like him make me obsessed when I don’t want to be. Guys like him toy with my heart, subconsciously or consciously.

And then...

Last summer, at some point, something made me think that he felt like I feel so I stupidly dropped my guard and showed him my true colours. And when boys like me show our true colours we say stupid cheesy embarrassing things about how we are feeling. Then boys like me take a chance when the moment feels right. We expose our souls and our desires for the first time ever…

To guys like him.

Boys like me fool around with guys like Even.

And after…

Guys like Even show _their_ true colours; that he is just an entitled prick who thinks he can have what he wants when he wants it. He thinks that it’s okay to lie and cheat and then just show up to the shop a year later and act completely normal. As if he isn’t some fucking fuck boy- some asshole twat- when that is exactly what he is.

And yet despite that, like an idiot, I still feel… things towards him…

Ugh.

“Earth calling Isak.” Dad is so cheesy. “What do guys like him do?”

I sigh and Eva gives me a tender smile.

“Nothing, dad. He just has better things to do than chill with a bunch of school kids.”

“Ex-school kids. You’re about to be university students.” Dad says with pride.  “Have you told him you’re going to-”

“No. No offence, dad, but weren’t you going to bed?”

Dad looks at me as though he knows that I am deflecting. He nods. “Yes. I am.”

“Night.” I say.

“Night, kid. Night, Eva. You are welcome to stay and take the spare room if you like tonight.”

“Thanks.”

Once he is gone Eva snuggles up to me on the blanket. She smiles and whispers in my ear. “Do you think he thinks we’re fucking?”

“Fuck no.” Or. “Shit maybe.”

“Did you hear him though? ‘You can have the spare room if you like!’ ”

I laugh. “That is not how my dad speaks!”

“He thinks we are going to fuck tonight when he’s asleep.” Eva drops her back onto the blanket and looks up at the sky too. “If you just came out to him already then he would stop thinking that and I could stay over in your room.”

“No. If I did that dad would think that I was pretending to be gay so that I could bang you under his roof.”

“How many straight boys do you think fake being gay to their parents for that reason?”

I shrug.  “Anyway, there is no point in upsetting dad by coming out to him. I’m going soon.”

“But he'll still be your dad. You underestimate him. He’s super chill.”

“Mute.”

It’s a thing we do if we don’t want to speak about something.

“Okay. Fair play. So let’s get back to what we were talking about before your hot dad interrupted us. Even.”

“No. I’m done.”

“Well I’m not.”

“Mute.”

“You know the rule. Only one mute a day.”

Shit.

“Did you speak with him then?”

“Yes.”

“About last summer, Isak.”

“Obviously no. And humiliate myself even more? He’s probably forgotten about it anyway.”

“A kiss with a hottie like you?!”

I scoff. What hottie where? “I’m probably 137 hook ups in his past by now and fuck boys have a short memory.”

“Hello! On what planet is Even a fuck boy?!” Eva is astonished. “Seriously, Isak. You two have always gotten on and for the past couple of years I’ve had such a vibe off him like he’s really into you.”

Literally what evidence does Eva have to prove that?

“He’s really not!” I have seen with my own eyes how deceitful Even can be; how he can act like he cares when he really doesn't at all. “Do you want me to be with someone who messes people around?”

“No. You’re the only one who thinks he does and you won’t tell me why. You’ve made a version of Even in your head that doesn’t sound like the guy I know at all. All I am saying is at least talk to him.”

I don’t want to get into it so I go to pull my baseball cap down but I’m not wearing one. Fuck. Nowhere to hide.

“Text him now. Just as friends.  Ask him to come chill with us tomorrow. You, me, Jonas and him. No stress.”

I think about it. If Eva and Jonas are there then that’s okay. Isn’t it?

“Like a double date!” She smiles.

I frown.

“Joke. Sheesh.” She rolls her eyes.

I pick up my phone and stare at it.

“Hi Even. I was wondering-” Eva excitedly claps her hands.

I side eye her. “I know what to say. I don’t need any help. Thanks.”

 

_Hi Even. I’m not working tomorrow_

_and I was wondering if you wanted_

_to hang out. Tomorrow._

 

“I wrote tomorrow twice.” Face palm.

Eva smiles. “Doesn’t matter.”

We look at the screen together and I feel my grip on it tighten even more until my knuckles go white while I wait for a reply.  

“What time is it?” I ask.

“Just gone midnight.”

“Shit. Why did I text him now? He’ll think I’m a freak for thinking about him at this time of day.”

“Exactly.” Eva nudges me playfully. “A freak for him!”

Incoming text.  My heart has actually stopped beating.

 

_Who is this?_

 

Eva looks at me curiously. “Doesn’t he have your number?”

“Yes…” Actually. “No.”

 

_Isak. Hi._

 

_Hi! Thought it was my stalker._

__

 

 _Lol. Nope._ _Just me._

 

 _This is a surprise._ _A pleasant_

_one though._

 

_What happened to your other_

_number?_

 

_I lost my phone last summer._

 

_Sucks._

 

 _Yeah_

 

_Did I wake you?_

 

_No. I was drawing. You?_

 

_Looking at stars._

 

“God. You are both such fucking clichés.” Eva scoffs. “I love it! A creative and an explorer. Aw.”

“Shut up.”

 

_With Evan?_

 

 _Not tonight. But last week I_

_got a really_ _good view of the_

 _international_ _space station_

_with him._

 

_Oh yeah?_

 

_So cool. I had to get the aperture_

_and power to a ridiculous level_

_but it was totally worth it._

 

Eva groans. “If this is how you flirt, Isak…” She shakes her head in despair.

 

_You must show it to me sometime._

 

Gulp.

“Oh. But it seems to work on him so carry on.” Eva says.

_Yeah, sure. Cool._

 

 _So you’re still interested_ _in Evan?_

 

 _He’s the best thing ever!_ _Thanks._

 

 _I’m glad he's still_ _making you happy._

 

Eva points at the phone screen. “He’s flirting. That’s flirting.”

I roll my eyes at her.

 

_You were saying about hanging_

_out tomorrow. Yeah. I can do that._

_It’ll be fun._

 

My heart stops beating again.

“See!” Eva pulls me into a hug and squeals.

 

_What were you thinking?_

 

_I hadn’t really thought about it._

_Just something chill._

 

 _You could come to mine to_ _chill._

_Swim maybe._

 

“He wants you half clothed. Well played, Even. Well played."

"Can you please stop reading his messages!"

"Should I remind you of what happened last time you were at his place?” Eva sticks her tongue out and moves it about obscenely while making sex sounds.

I push her face away.

 

_Yeah. Okay. What time?_

 

_10.30-11. I’ll make us a late_

_breakfast._

 

Eva nods. “Food is what led Jonas and me to sleep together for the first time. He made me some really nice spaghetti and then I was naked on my back with my legs up being banged.”

“Mute.”

“You can’t mute-”

“It’s after midnight now.”

“Oh.”

 

 _Cool_.

 

_x_

 

“He sent you a kiss! Tomorrow I am going dress shopping for your wedding!”

Why is Eva so dramatic and giddy?

“No. Tomorrow, you and Jonas are coming to Even’s with me.”

“That’s what I thought too but you haven't mentioned me or Jonas once during your text conversation with him so we're not invited to breakfast.” She raises both eyebrows knowingly.

“I-” I scroll. “Shit.”

“You have just arranged a date with him!”

“I-” What? NOOOOOOOO!!!!!! “I’ll text him.”

“And reverse your invitation to hang out with him?  That would look so fucking weird.”  She holds my hand. “It’s just better to go. Treat it like a bro date if that makes you feel better. And if you don’t want to find yourself on your back with your legs up being banged then don’t find his food too delicious. Or get too close to him… I'm speaking from experience. It's how you end up with a boyfriend.”

“Shit. I’m not going.”

“You can’t be rude. Send him a heart _emoji_.”

“No! Are you crazy!?”

Like a ninja, she snatches my phone out on my hands, jumps onto her feet and runs across the backyard all while tapping on it. I chase her.

“No. Eva!”

 

 

She throws the phone back at me and giggles, “Sorry! I've sent it!”

God. How embarrassing. I type quickly.

_That emoji was from Eva._

 

_I mean, she stole my phone._

 

_She thought it would be funny_

 

_Sorry._

 

_Eva is with you now?_

 

_Yes_

 

A speech bubble comes up like he is replying but he doesn’t for what feels like ages.

I sigh, walk back to the blanket and lie down.

“Sorry. I got caught up in the moment.” She walks after me. “What’s he said?”

“Nothing.”

He probably thinks that I am some obsessed weirdo creepy schoolboy who has a crush on him after a single hook-up that meant nothing to him. How cringey.

My phone pings again.

 

 

He just sent me TWO HEARTS! 

Wait....

He is typing some more so I hold my breath and wait.

 

_Sorry. Daniel sent that._

 

 

 

I crack a smile. Idiot.

“Who’s Daniel?” Eva looks over my shoulder.

 

“His fake man slave.” I wait as another speech bubble comes up.

 

_Man slaves aren’t what they used_

_to be._

 

__

 

_Don't worry. I’m firing him tomorrow_

_morning_ _before you come_

 

 _Bit harsh_ _for just sending the_

 _wrong_ _message. No?_

 

 

 _No. I told him very clearly to_ _send_

_12 hearts! One for every year_

_that I have known you. 12 not 2!!!_

_Sometimes I think I should do these_

_jobs myself... like normal people..._

Funny.

Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. What is happening? What does this mean?! I am so confused. Is Eva right? _Is_  he flirting or is he playing me? It's so hard to tell. It's just joking banter... isn't it?

 

_I’ll probably let him wank me off_

_one last time… for his memories_

 

 

I smile and shake my head.

 

_For HIS memories?!_

 

__

 

_Trust me. The pleasure is all his..._

 

 

 

_See you tomorrow_

 

It's warm tonight but the temperature just felt like it went up a notch. 

“Shit, Isak. Look at you getting your flirt on!" Eva rubs my back and says, "Come here I need to tell you something important."

She puts her mouth to my ear and whispers,

"You are going to get banged by a dude for the first time by the end of this summer. Just FYI - It'll be Even."

 

 


	6. The One with the Boat Party, the Hard Drugs and Where Even Hurts Isak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor hurt Isak...

**Last Summer- Even**

 

                                       

 

Since going over to Isak's to give him the telescope a few nights ago I haven't seen or spoken to him. I am trying to exercise restraint, hoping that he will be the one to make the next move. To call me. To come to me. But of course, he hasn't. Three days on and nothing.

So here I am, sweltering in the evening heat. The sun is on full beam and it’s still humid, almost tropical. Fucking nuts for Norway. It’s the kind of weather where I feel like I should be doing something active but it’s brought me to my knees.

After dancing for hours on the upper deck of Julian’s (parent’s) yacht I have settled into lounging in a reclining chair, glass of champagne in one hand with Ismail and Julian sitting next to me. We are sharing a blunt and taking in the party that is going on around us. Boat party.

It’s easy to stare with sunglasses on. The music is a combination of dance and hip hop. Hard to resist. There’s laughter and shouting. Top notch food and drink. Champagne on ice. Cocktail bowls. Chilled lagers. There’s something for everyone’s taste...

Tomas has provided for the ‘hardcore’ partiers. ‘It’s a fucking coke mountain!’ He shouted earlier as he brought a pile of white powder on a silver platter onto the deck. ‘Snow covered mountain y’all!’

‘Shit! Don’t announce it… it’s my parent’s boat, dude.’ Julian groaned. ‘And I’d really rather you didn’t.’

But Tomas did and so did a few others. A line or two or more. There’s still enough blow to get us into serious trouble with the law… but that’ll never happen. Not while our yacht cruises slowly through the fjords; past villages, valleys, hills and greenery. And if the cops were to stop us, dropping a couple of our surnames would make them turn a blind eye and give us a caution at most.

“Fuck. The world’s unfair, guys.” I mutter.

“Huh?” Julian takes a drag of his blunt then passes it to me.

“What do you mean?” Ismail asks.

“Everything. Like how sometimes it is one rule for some and another for others.”

 

                 

 

Inhale weed, exhale smoke rings. “We’re lucky, bro. No wonder people hate people like us.”

Julian giggles. “What people?”

 _Isak_.

“Just people.” I take another hit and pass it on.

“Are you fucking high already?”

“No.”

“Coke’s got a dent in it.”

J pointing out the obvious.

“Half of it is in Tomas.” Ismail says. “He needs to chill with that stuff.”

Ismail’s not wrong but it’s hard to judge and take the moral high road when we’re passing around a joint.

“Who the fuck are some of these people anyway?” Julian mumbles. “On my fucking boat.”

“Not your boat, dude.” I correct. “You did jack to earn it.”

“Well you’re enjoying it so.”

Touché. He sounds like Isak.

The people we know are friends of ours from Uni and school who have come up for this three day party-fest. Some are kids of our parent’s friends; invited out of politeness because they are around our age.

“Erik and I picked those girls up at the gala.” Ismail points a lazy finger at a group of hot girls in bikinis in one corner. “Those ones over there are on holiday locally and we found them when we were buying drinks in the village.” He points at another group of hot girls in bikinis. “And fuck knows who they are.”

He points at a third set of hot girls in bikinis.

Our eyes home in on the scene taking place next to them; Erik sandwiched between two girls as they grind on him and take turns at sucking his face.

Ismail lowers his shades. “Our boy’s having fun.”

I nod. “Do you feel like you’re missing out?”

Ismail laughs. “Not going to lie… a little. But Emma’s the girl for me. Got to stay faithful. You. Do you miss Iben?”

He bursts out laughing. Hearing her name has a sobering effect. Iben. Like a cold glass of water being thrown in my face.

I shrug. “That's not funny. It's not the same and you know it.”

“Casanova.” He chuckles.

“I’m not a Casanova.”  

“Yeah. I know you’re not.” He raises an eyebrow. “But I will say this; you’re looking fucking chill without her around.”

“That’s what happens when you’re not watching your back.” Julian says.

“Iben.” Ismail shakes his head. “No offence but that girl is intense.”

Ismail’s not wrong. I get anxious just thinking about her. I have felt so much better knowing that she is miles away from me while I spend my summer away from Oslo. Away from her.

I feel relieved by our distance.

“Bro, do you see those guys over there?” Ismail points at three hot guys in swimming trunks. “Erik and I picked them up for you in case you fancied a little holiday fun… now that we know that you like to dabble with dicks too…”

Julian giggles. “He’s pimping you out!”

I roll my eyes.  

Ismail- “I’ve pimped Alec out too. In fact where is he?”

“Last time I saw him he was headed downstairs with some chick.” I say.

“What? Where?!” Julian sits up. “Fuck. The clean up.”

Ismail smiles and presses a palm to his own chest. “You know there’s no judgement, Even. I told you already about that guy who jerked me off when I was in lower high school. And it was, you know, at least a 7 out of 10.”

“Once when I was playing hockey I accidentally cupped an opponent's balls when sliding on the ice.” Julian offers. “And another time a guy’s ass landed on my face so.”

Fucking hell.

“Great story, J. Relevance?”

“I thought we were sharing personal stories of boy on boy action. I have another example.”

“I’m good.” I mutter. “And I’m not sharing mine.”

The weed is starting to take hold. I feel light as a feather. Fucking relaxed. Chill as hell. I rest back in the deck chair and close my eyes.  

“Bro. What’s the deal with you and your friend?” Ismail nudges me.

I open my eyes again. “Which friend?”

His smile is small. “The kid from four days ago. The day we rolled into town and took a complete detour on our way to lunch. Kayak boy.”

He is referring to Isak and the mere fact has got my blood pumping. He passes me the blunt and waits.

“Isak.” Julian mutters.

I take a long drag, try to act casual.

Ismail nods. “Nice guy.”

“You didn’t even say hi to him.”

“I didn’t have to. I’m a good judge of character.  One look and I can call it.  Good or bad. Like for example… You. Good. Julian. Bad.”

“Hey!” Julian complains.

“Joking.” Ismail grins.

“I got us my boat... at short notice, may I add. Otherwise, Even would have had us kayaking for two weeks solid.”

If only.

“True! My bad.” Ismail laughs.  “So what’s the deal with you and Isak?”

“We’re friends. Kind of.”

“Kind of?  Looked more complicated than that.”

It is.

I can picture Isak here, right now, dressed in his baseball cap, sleeveless top and paint-splattered cut off jeans, looking at this party with his arms crossed. Frowning.

“Not sure we are even friends to be honest. I’m not his kind of person. This-” I point at the party “- is not his kind of thing. If he was here, he would lay into me about the carbon footprint of the boat or the effect of pollution on the clearness of the skies and the visibility of the stars.” I smile when I think about how earnest he gets. “He would go fucking nuts if he couldn’t see his stars. He loves looking at them. He showed me the moon the other day. So much detail. I’ve never seen it like that, all magnified up. It was fucking awesome and he was so pumped about it. He was...”

Why are Julian and Ismail looking at me funny?

“Fuck. I’m rambling.” I pass the blunt back to J. “I think I've overdone it.”

I’m using that as an excuse for the fact that I am pining over a boy who won’t give me the time of day.

Ismail’s eyes narrow like he is working through a complex maths calculation. “Mate. That telescope… was that for him?”

“What?” Shit. Fucking blunt giving me loose lips. “No.” I say sheepishly.

“It was! Fuck. I thought it was for a local youth group in the village or something.”

“Are you and him banging...” J starts.

“... Cause if you are you had better make sure Iben doesn’t find out.” Ismail finishes.

“We’re not banging!”  

“But you want to- no point in denying it- which means that psycho girl of yours, no offence, will want to hang you from a tree by your balls...” Ismail says “... and then dice Isak’s junk in front of you.”

“Graphic-” Julian nods “-But probably true.”

“LADS!!!” Tomas struts up to us, arms out. Topless and chest glistening from sweat and sun cream. “Lads! Lads! Lads! Lads! Lads!”

He’s fucking gone.

He falls into my lap and drapes a hand over my shoulders. “Are you talking about your side-dick...?!” He laughs loudly, slaps his palm on my chest. “Get it?!  Side-dick… like a side-chick but it's a guy!!!!”

“I think you need to ease off the white stuff.” Julian says.

“Are we all going to act as if our boy here doesn’t have the hots for that guy from the kayak shop?!” Tomas pulls me into a hug.

Ismail grins. “We’re one step ahead of you, dude.”

“It’s obvious...” Tomas looks me square in the eye with his unfocussed ones “... and it’s fucking adorable!”

“You’re high.”

“So are you! Invite him to your barbecue! Make him your main-dick!”

“What about Iben?” Julian interjects.

“Fuck Iben! No one human being owns or controls another human being! We are all just writhing beautiful living masses moving through space and time looking for a connection! FUCK WHO YOU WANT TO FUCK, EVEN!”  

“Chill, dude.” Ismail mumbles.

Tomas plants a kiss on my lips, stands up and dance-walks backwards toward the dance floor while pointing at me. “No homo, bro! Make him your MAIN DICK!!!”

I throw out an uncomfortable laugh as I look at Julian and Ismail. “The fuck.”

Tomas shouts over to me, “You only live once, bro!  Make a move on him!!!”

                   

 

"Fuck guys." Julian stands up. "I'm going to make sure Alec hasn't fucked up one of the bedrooms."

 

+++

 

 

                   

 

As I drive out towards the kayak shop the next day I start second guessing myself. Regretting my decision.  What the fuck am I doing?  Am I honestly about to follow the advice of my coked out friend?!

I look at my reflection in my car’s rear-view mirror.

“Grow some balls.” I say to myself.

Three days on Julian’s family’s yacht has worn me down. I need a break from that kind of shit. Shit that’s fun for a second and then quickly loses its appeal. Because it’s meaningless shit. Skin deep. Superficial. ‘Insta’-ready shit that amounts to nothing.

The kayak shop is bustling with customers and Tiny is sleeping in her favourite corner.

“Even!” Isak’s father spots me straight away and rounds the cash counter.

“Hi, Fredrik.”

He pulls me into a back pat. “What are they putting in Oslo’s water now-a-days? I didn’t realise the other night that you’ve grown to my height.”

I laugh. “Yes, but I still have no muscles unlike you!”

“It’s all the kayaking. Talking of which, you haven’t been paddling yet this year.”

“Yeah. Sucks but I have a few friends over who aren’t really into it.”

“Their loss.”

“Mine too.” I smile. “We’ve been on a boat for the last three days instead. Partying.”

I roll my eyes.

“Sounds painful.” He’s being sarcastic.

“It was!”

“I am sorry you had to go through such a hard time!”

I laugh. “Seriously! It’s not that I don’t like a good time but after a while it’s just a bunch of aimless human beings talking shit and doing shit.”

“I get it.” He’s teasing me. He nods. “You and my son are well suited in many ways.” Gulp. What?  “You have different perspectives but you look at the world in a similar way.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Well I do.” He makes his way back behind the counter so I follow him. “By the way, you’ve made him very happy. He loves the telescope. He’s been using it every night since you gave it to him.”

I feel like my heart will explode. “Really?”

“Yes. I called your parents to say thank you and they told me it was all you, that you had worked very hard to afford it. Thank you.”

"It's nothing."

I feel embarrassed now. Who the fuck goes that OTT on a present for a ‘friend’, a ‘barely even friend’? What must Fredrik think of me? That I’m some weirdo creepy guy. Creeping on his son...

I try not to look like I am scanning the shop.

“He’s not here.”

Fuck.

“What? Who?”

“My son.”

“Oh. I was just looking for… at your… … … paddles?”

“Not for Isak?”

How do I answer that? I clear my throat. “Yeah. Uh. Yeah. Actually, him too. I was just looking to invite him to a barbecue at my place tomorrow.”

He gives me a lopsided smile. “Okay.”

“And Eva, Jonas and Mahdi. Obviously.”

“Obviously?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think he’s doing anything. I’ll let him know.”

“Cool.”

“You could have just called him.”

_True. True. Shit. You’ve got me there, Fredrik._

“I could but... I thought I... might come and have a paddle too.”

_Nice recovery, Even._

“Okay. In which case, if you hang around for a few more minutes you can kill two birds with one stone; ask Isak to the barbecue yourself and go for a paddle with him.”

“He told me he wasn’t licensed.”

“He doesn’t have to be if he is doing it off book. For fun. It’d just be friends hanging out. Right?”

 _Just friends_.

I must look hesitant because he adds. “You’d make me feel less guilty about robbing my son of his summer by keeping him company.”

I take a deep breath.

“No charge.”

“I don’t mind paying.” I say.

“Where I come from friends don’t pay friends to hang out.”

I like Isak’s dad.

“Okay. If he’s game then I’m in.”

“Good!” Fredrik looks pleased with himself. “He should be back soon. He has gone for a quick run to work off some stress.”

“Stress?”

“Yes. He’ll deny it but I think there is someone he really likes.”

“Oh.”

Isak has a crush on someone?

SHIT.

“And he is probably making it more complicated than he needs to.” Fredrik pats my shoulder. “Anyway. I’d love to talk but I’ve got my work cut out for me here. Business is booming.”

“Yeah. Sure. Sure. I’ll wait for him outside.”

Who the fuck has Isak got a crush on?!

_“But can you imagine if there was someone who would give you a wank or a blow job when you wanted one or when they fancied giving you one?”_

_“I think they are called hook ups or a girlfriend.”_

_“Girlfriend?”_

That's it. He is lusting after some girl. Maybe Eva? They hang out loads. Or maybe one of the girls from his school? Or one of the hundreds of girls who come into the village on holiday?

FUCK.

I storm out of the shop and head towards my car. I need to chill. Relax. Take a moment to calm down from this feeling of hopeless desperation.

I take my keys out of my pocket. And collide into someone.

Isak. Obviously, because the gods of coincidence like fucking with me.

He ricochets backwards and loses his balance. He doesn’t fall because I get to him in time. Grab him. Hold him for a second longer than necessary. Pull him to me.

I have to force myself to let him go when he has found his feet.

“Shit, sorry.” We say at the same time as he takes his earphones out and throws them over his shoulder.

“Ouch.” He grimaces. He feels his side and rubs it gingerly. He lifts his top up and checks himself.

Smooth tanned skin. There is a little red area just under his ribs where my elbow got him.

“This must be how it feels to be stabbed.”

I can’t with him. He is just everything. Funny. Over-dramatic. Hot as fuck, sweating a storm and breathless from his run. I reach out to touch where he is sure to get a bruise but he pulls away before I can and drops the hem of his top.

Fair play.

“Sorry.” I say again.

“I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He straightens out and gives me a feeble grin.

I pick up one of his earphones and place it next to my ear.

“[N.W.A.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TMZi25Pq3T8)?” I lift an eyebrow. “Controversial, angry.”

He looks a bit angry actually. With me. “Maybe that’s the mood I’m in.”

“Same.”

He stares me down so I stare him down.

He winces and holds his side.

Shit. He really is hurting.  “You want some pain relief?”

“It’s fucking throbbing but I can take it.”

He walks right into these jokes....

I smile. “Dick joke.”

“Ugh!” He grumbles. “That’s not funny!”

“It is funny!”

Kind of.  Now I have dirty thoughts in my head...

“What are you doing here anyway?” He asks.

“I was going to ask if you fancied a paddle.”

“I can’t because-”

“- Because you’re not licensed?”

He nods.

“Your dad said that it’s fine as long as it’s off book. As friends.”

“Oh.”

_See. You’ve got no excuses now. One- nil to Even._

“But with my stab wound-”

I roll my eyes.

“I can’t kayak.” He smiles.

“Just tell me if you don’t want to kayak with me, Isak. I get that it is hard to get beaten by someone who only comes out for a few weeks a year and yet still kicks your ass on the water when it comes to speed!”

I give him my biggest shit-eating grin.

“That is not why I won’t kayak with you!”

“Then why not?”

“I- Fuck! Okay. Let’s do it some other time. When I’m not fucking dying of a stab wound!”

Yes!

“Deal.”

I take his hand and take a step closer to him. It’s not my fault. It’s my feet.

“I thought you were on some yacht partying.” He grips my hand.

“I was.”

“Marlon, from the shop said that your posse bought most of his booze and picked up some girls.”

“Are you spying on us?” I give him a sly smile.

“No.”

He lets go of our handshake.

“That was Erik and Ismail. They have a way with girls. And the yacht's not mine. It's my mate Julian's. He got it brought over with crew because the lads voted five to one in favour of it.”

Isak bites his inner lower lip, looking at me.

“Go on. Say it.” I mutter.

He breaks a smile and my stupid fucking feet take a further step closer to him.

I whisper because we are a whisper away from each other. “You’re biting your tongue but you want to say that the boat is shitty for the environment and a boat party is over-indulgent. And that I am the worst.”

“No.”

“No? Then what would you say?”

“I am wondering why we are whispering?”

Fucking. Damn. Shit! Argh!

He knew that would break the mood. The thing that was happening between us that felt almost real. Am I honestly the only one to feel it?

“Do you want to come to my barbecue tomorrow?”

“At your place?”

I nod.

“Who’s going to be there?”

“People. My friends. People. It doesn’t matter.”

“I don’t know.”

“Come.”

“I can’t promise. I might be busy.”

“Your dad said you aren’t.”

“Fucking dads!” He smiles.

“So come.”

I am begging and I don’t even care.

“Who cares if I’m there?”

ME!!!!

“Me.”

He bites his lip again. This time I can’t read him so I wait for what feels like an eternity.

“Okay. I’ll come if I don’t succumb to my stab wound.”

“I could kiss it better.”

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

_Why, Even?_

I wink. “Kidding.”

I smile. “Or am I?”

Isak’s jaw drops so I clear my throat. “It was a joke.”

“It was a weird joke.”

IT’S BECAUSE IT WASN’T REALLY A JOKE, ISAK!!!!

“Yeah. I’ll stick to slapstick.”

“Were you leaving?”

“Yes. Or No. Unless, I mean, now that we can’t kayak…”

“I was thinking that we could take Tiny for a walk instead.” His eyes are so fucking green. I love when they pay me undivided attention. “I mean, I can’t hold her leash because you stabbed me with your elbow-”

“-melodramatic-”

He laughs. “Ouch! But you could keep a rein on her and we could hang out now if you have time.”

“Let me go get her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while. Summer has got me good. Thanks for the comments. Love them!
> 
> Also- just because I write it doesn't mean I condone it x


	7. The One Where There is A Walk Down Memory Lane, The Dog Cock-Blocks and Fredrik Gives Isak a Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abandoned Houses and Robots?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like writing this fic - thought I'd want to get them having sex sooner but I am indulging in the whole delayed reward thing right now. Hope y'all aren't getting too impatient and wanting the climax now... ('dick joke' as this Even would say!). 
> 
> I hope the time shifts and POV changes aren't too confusing. There is a pattern, I swear! x

**Last Summer- Isak**

 

Morning.

I wait for Even and Tiny by his car and hold my side. It is a bit sore after he elbowed me by mistake but it's fine.  If I'm honest I would have been able to Kayak but I didn't want to.  Kayaking would have been just me and him.  Taking a walk means that I have Tiny to fall back on if I decide to be awkward around Even.

I look at his car. God, it’s so fucking pretentious. A car lover’s and speed freak’s wet dream. I hate that secretly I think it’s cool, almost space shuttle like, with its sleek lines and scissor doors. Such an obvious, over the top car to drive though.

I frown as I realise how shit I must look next to it. An overheated boy in a snapback, swimming trunks, old T-shirt and beat up trainers leaning against the bonnet of a polished slick beast of a machine. I frown because Even seems to keep catching me at my worst so far this holiday. When he came to the kayak shop a few days ago I looked like a fucking hobo and now I look like a sweaty disgusting mess from my run. He probably thinks I am the nastiest kid on the planet.

Meanwhile he looks perfect... for a fuck boy... with preppy fashion sense.

Life is not fair. I am also frowning because my run did nothing to dampen my thoughts because those thoughts were about Even and he showed up to bring them all back again. I keep thinking about his touch- his hand to my cheek- before he drove off to rejoin the gala a few nights ago. 

It’s not the first time he’s touched me obviously.  We have hugged and wrestled. Shared Handshakes and chest bumps. Play fought and given each other elbow nudges.  Kid’s play. Innocent shit. One hundred percent platonic. Not like that night.

When he touched me it felt unlike any other touch he had ever given me. I am frowning because I feel like an idiot. I feel like a naive child because it was literally just a touch, just a few seconds. I am making a mountain out of a molehill. I keep remembering how just before he gripped the steering wheel of his car really hard until his knuckles went white as if he was trying to resist. I remember how his eyes looked really intense as his fingers made contact with me. His look took my breath away. I remember the whisper of his skin on mine as he stroked my cheek before pulling away.  It was tender. Affectionate. It lingered after he broke contact.

And he didn’t break the mood or say ‘kidding’ or tease me or throw in banter to confuse me. He didn’t backtrack or laugh it off. For those few seconds I felt that he longed for me. That he might be into me. Like the impossible might be possible.

But, of course, that’s bullshit. The minute he drove off, I started thinking rationally. By the time I crawled into bed I had come up with three theories.

 **Theory one** \- I totally misinterpreted what happened. What I thought was a caress of affection was actually Even trying to rub something off my face. Like food or something. Oh God! Was it the _Mills_ caviar that I ate on my sandwich that evening? Did I have paste just chilling on my cheek while we set up the telescope, had a go on it and chatted? The shame! It must have reminded him of what a clumsy, unrefined boy I am. He was probably howling as he drove back to the gala thinking about the crusty village kid/charity project who can’t eat properly. And fucking cheap caviar paste... I bet he has only ever let the proper stuff past his lips, _Beluga_ or _Baluga_ or whatever.

 

             

 

            [](http://www.royalcaviaruae.com/images/Royalbeluga.jpg)

 

 **Theory two** \- He is into me. I am literally dying with laughter over the fact that I am even considering this option but my brain thinks scientifically and in the name of science I have to consider all possible theories.

In support of this theory is the fact that Even has always been super nice to me ever since we met as kids- eight and five years old. Even when I am grouchy he is sweet. He does nice things for me. Nothing as extravagant as the fucking telescope (which he would have bought with his parents’ money so it’s nice but also kind of easy for him to do). But he has done other stuff like calm me down when we first started kayaking and I would freak out that I might drown at sea. He squared up to kids from school who gave me a hard time because I was quiet, studious and with no interest in girls... and a weird star-gazing obsession. He helped me to take pride in my passions and always seems interested in them. He named Tiny with me when my parents gave her to me because they were worried that I was a lonely kid in need of company. He had kind words for me when mum left and I felt that life couldn’t get any shittier. He protected me and gave me words of encouragement when I was getting bullied by older teammates on the basketball team.

He has always seemed to be there at the right time even when that time was only summer. He spends time with me when there is no reward or benefit to him. And this visit, he is putting up with my weird hot/cold behaviour which isn’t his fault even though he is the cause of it.  

I could bunch all his nice actions towards me together and fool myself that they prove that he ‘likes me’ likes me but I’d be playing myself. Familiarity breeds comfort and I know that Even is nice to me because he has known me for ages and sees me as that little kid that’s kind of like a little brother.

 **Theory three** \- He is fucking with my emotions for sport. Somewhere along the line he has cottoned onto what I have known about myself for a while now. That I haven’t dared voice to anyone, not even my friends; that for years I have known that my attention gravitates to boys and not girls. In this small village it is enough of a burden to be different for being a swat. If I add being gay to the mix then I am truly fucked. So every time Even says something sexual or suggestive, I am torn. Part of me feels a tingle- a shudder that runs through my body- and I want to scream, ‘Don’t tell me it’s a joke when you say you want to kiss it better or when you give me flirty suggestive sexual banter! Tell me you mean it! Tell me you want me!’ And the other part of me wants to say, ‘Stop gay baiting me just because you have found me out and sense that I like you. JUST FUCKING STOP!’

“Isak.”

I jump out of my skin.

Even is standing in front of me with Tiny.  “Are you ready?”

My dog is so well behaved with him. Sitting there calmly. Not even on a leash yet. A gentle wagging of her tail like butter wouldn’t melt.  Cool as hell. She is pissing me off right now because she is totally under his thumb- on her best behaviour- when normally she can be a right shit when she wants to be. And I mean that with love. She has a personality.

“Yeah. I’m ready.”

I lean down to pet her.

“You’re frowning.” Even says.

“Am I?”

 _It’s because everyone falls in love with you, Even. My friends think you are the shit. Tore thinks you’re chill. My dad seems to have a full blown man crush on you and now my dog- who is supposed to be_ my _closest ally- is literally acting like your bitch._

Ugh.

“I was just thinking about-” think fast “- about how… I … should probably tell dad that we’re off for a bit.”

“Done. He says he doesn’t need you for the rest of the day.”

“Oh.”

“And that you and I should get lunch together.”

“He said that?”

He grins. “No. I added that part.” He clears his throat. “There is a nice place that I think you and Tiny will really like.”

Not if it’s one of the posh restaurants I know he goes to.

“I’m not dressed right.”

“You look fine.”

With his sunglasses on I can’t tell if he means it but I think he is actually scanning my clothes. Ugh. How embarrassing.

“Yeah. I know. I’m a fucking mess.” I feebly try to fan myself but that isn’t going to get rid of the wet film coating my red skin.

He clears his throat again. “Stop fishing.”

“What?”

He clears his throat. “What?”

“Do you have a cough?”

“No.” He pushes his sunglasses further up his nose. “Why?”

“Nothing.” Why does he keep clearing his throat?

 

                 

 

“Okay.” He opens his car, takes out a brushed leather rucksack and throws it over his shoulder before closing his car again. “Ready?”

I nod.

He takes his phone out of his pocket and points it at me. Presses a button.

“Hey! Did you just take a picture of me?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Reason?”

He takes a picture of Tiny too,

 

                    

 

Then winks at me as he slides his phone back into his shorts and puts the leash on her.  “I like capturing memories.”

 

+++

 

                   

 

                   

 

                   

 

Lunchtime.

We’ve been walking for a while now, away from the village over the hill and into some woods. The shop is miles away, out of sight.

“Okay, so let me get this straight. You are getting straight sixes in school… across all your subjects.”

I look at him smugly as we walk. “Yep. Or. Okay. Not quite. Like I dropped to a five once in physics.”

“Fuck.”

"I know. I'm practically a genius!"

He shakes his head with a smile. “And modest too."

I chuckle.

"That’s fucking impressive, Isak. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.”

"You know, for a kid who used to believe that cars turned into robots when you weren't looking you've turned out okay..."

"You told me about the robot thing!"

"And you believed me! You used to do that thing where you would pretend not to look at your dad's car but really you were staring it down through your peripheral vision waiting for it to transform."

"Oh God! You noticed?"

"Yup!"

"In my defence I was like six or something! I believed pretty much anything you told me!" 

"Real talk. I told you because that is what I secretly believed for years. It was cool having someone else believe it too."  He throws a stick and Tiny chases it. "It's why I got the lambo."  

"Oh." I don't quite get the association between the Lamborghini and the robot myth but okay.   

“So what are you going to do next year, after you graduate high school?”

“Not sure.”

I am sure but I don’t want to seem like a freak for mapping out the next few years of my life so precisely. The plan is to go to UiO to do a physics degree then I want to progress to a master’s in astronomy. The question is what happens after that. It’s not a highly paid career but I’d make enough to live comfortably. The problem is that opportunities are limited in Norway. I would have to consider moving abroad. That is something that both excites and terrifies me.

I don’t want to spew all that to Even right now.

“You don’t have to tell me now if you don’t want to.” Even says as if reading my mind.

“What about you?”  I look for Tiny. She hasn't come back with the stick. Instead she is after something in the bushes. Probably a small animal. “Hey, Tiny! Tiny! Come here girl!  Now!”

Even laughs. "Let her play!"

“No.” I run after her and he runs after me. “She’s so fucking curious!”

“She won’t eat whatever it is.”

“No, But she’ll scare it half to death!”

Tiny thinks that we want to play so we end up running around after her until we are too exhausted.

“Hey! I’ve already had my run.” I pant as I get to her only to get a renewed ache in my side from my my bruise.

Even takes over. Puts the leash back on her so we can start walking again.

“One more year and I join the family business.” He says.

"Bech Næsheim Global." I say. "Is that what you want to do?”

He turns around and takes a snap of the path through the woods we have just walked over.

 

                         

 

“Yeah. Sure.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“Got to do what’s right.” He glances over at me.

“Is that what your parents want?”

“It’s what they expect.”

Okay. He doesn’t seem happy about it though. I have gotten myself so caught up in my own thoughts and feelings that I haven’t stopped to think about Even’s. He is a year away from starting life out of education. Out in the real world. He may have it good in terms of his lifestyle but he seems to feel trapped by expectation.  

“Have they said that?  I don’t think they’d force you into a job you didn’t want.”

“What’s not to love about buying, selling, building and doing up property? Talking of which. We are nearly at our destination. A real fixer upper.”

I hadn’t realised that we were walking with a purpose. I thought we were just aimlessly walking in the middle of nature together, away from the world. 

“You don’t remember do you?” He says as we reach a clearing that faces the water.

He points ahead at an abandoned lake house in the middle distance.

I smile as pre-pubertal memories flood into my mind. Wow. “How did you remember how to get here?”

“I have a freakish memory.”

“Our parents were worried sick that day. Do you remember? They thought we’d drowned in the fjord or something!”

“To be fair we were gone for hours.” He says.

“Shit. Yeah. We were! What were we even doing for the whole day?”

“Just hanging out. Having fun. Exploring the world together.”

He takes another picture.

 

                       

 

"I can't believe it's still hanging in there. It's probably not structurally sound."

He shrugs. “Shall we see? Come on. I'm ready for some lunch.”

“Um. No offence but there isn't a shop for miles.”

He tuts. “I am offended that you think I didn’t come prepared.”

“How could you be prepared? I came up with the idea of taking a walk!”

“And I came up with the idea of having a picnic after we went kayaking.”

He pats his rucksack.

"... before your 'stabbing'."

 

+++

 

It’s perfect.

Everything about this is perfect.

The simple untarnished views. The weather. The decrepit house behind us full of memories of childhood mischief.  The thin sheet and rock we are sitting on. The uninterrupted conversation between Even and me now that Tiny has (finally) laid down for a snooze on the patch of shade created by the house.

The food which was crammed into Even’s rucksack is amazing. A feast of delicious delight. The bread is perfectly crusty on the outside, soft and pillowy on the inside. The sliced cured meats melt in my mouth. The hard cheeses are buttery yet crumbly. The orange juice is home squeezed, poured out of an air-sealed jar that was kept in a soft cover cooler bag. There are three different salads each with crazy inventive flavour. I don’t mind my greens but this is making me go back for more. Another helping. And another. Yum.

“You no way prepared this yourself!” I say before stuffing my face with more food. I should stop because I’ve eaten enough but I can’t help myself.

“What can I say?” Even points at himself. “Husband material!”

I scoff a laugh because he has got to be kidding. “Nah. I don’t believe you!”

“Seriously! It’s my not so secret power. I like to cook. I made the bread this morning. Chopped the ingredients for the salads; those tomatoes and avocados and other shit. Got the dressings done. Hand squeezed that orange juice. I gave this some thought, Isak! I was not messing around!”

It was probably Lisen because this is not the kind of picnic I can imagine Even fixing up on his own.

“Haha! Tell Lisen thanks.”

“You don’t believe me?”

Even snatches the fork I am holding out of my hand before it reaches my mouth.

“May I have my fork back?”

“Not until you accept that I made the food.” He is grinning as he holds it at arm’s length.

I roll my eyes. “Okay. You prepared the picnic.”

“Say it like you mean it.”

I laugh. “But you didn’t!”

“I did!”

He eats my forkful of food. “Yum.”

“Prove it.”

“You want to know what I put into that salad dressing.”

I nod.

“Okay. Extra virgin olive oil, honey, lemon, oven roasted then crushed shallots, chopped chives, raspberry vinegar, sea salt and a grind of pepper.”

I cross my arms.

He dips the fork into the salad and puts it to my lips. He watches as I take a bite and chew. “See? You like it?”

I nod slowly as I taste the individual flavours on my tongue. I close my eyes for a second to deepen the experience- lick my lips-  and open them again just in time to see Even's eyes dart to my mouth then away again.

“But-” I swallow because my throat feels dry suddenly “Uh. That doesn’t prove anything. You could have asked Lisen for the list of ingredients or read it out of a recipe book or-”

“So I’ll prove it to you tomorrow... when you come over.”

“I- uh.”

He drops the fork and WITHOUT ANY FUCKING WARNING he lightly rubs the corner of my mouth with his thumb.

“I know this sounds cliche but you had a bit of… something there” His face is inches from mine “that missed your mouth.”

I try to joke it off- “Sexy right?” -but I feel like I can’t breathe.

He just stares at me.

So I babble. “Is that what it was the other night when you said bye before going to the gala and you rubbed my face?  I figured that I had a bit of caviar paste on my face. The _Mills_ one. Do you know the one?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. Okay but you’ve probably never eaten it. You probably eat the proper caviar.”

“You didn’t have anything on your face that night.”

“Oh. I-”

I don’t know what to say or think.

“Isak, I think I’m-”

There is commotion near the house. Tiny has woken up and she has scared the shit out of herself because she is somewhere unfamiliar and she is still not fully awake. She barks and then gets onto her feet and runs towards us. Messes around with Even. Then messes around with me then back again.

Even falls back and lets her nozzle and lick and play with him. “Great timing, T. You want to stop me talking to Isak, huh?”

I look at them and feel jealous.

Jealous of my own fucking dog because she has no hang ups about doing what she feels like doing. If she wants to lick Even she can just go ahead and lick Even.

“Get a room.” I mean it to sound like a joke but it doesn’t quite come out that way.

“Are you jealous that Tiny loves me?”

“No! God, but she is so needy.”

“I don’t mind.” Even tosses and tumbles with her. “I like that. She just tells it like it is.”

“She can’t talk.” I give him a small smile.

“You know what I mean. If she feels something she just goes for it. Don’t you wish you were a bit like that?”

Yes. Yes I do but I say, “Do I wish I were like a dog?”

“Yes.” He grins. “Isak the dog!  Can you imagine that?”

“No.” I huff.

“If I was your owner I would have to take you for extra training as a pup because you’d be a feisty one. One of those intelligent breeds."

"Thanks. I think."

"Thinking you were the boss all the time.” He gives Tiny just enough attention to mean he can keep talking to me. “And you’d need to be walked at least a couple of times a day otherwise you’d get bored and aggressive.”

“This is feeling personal.” I mutter.

“But as long as you got attention and got fed on time and got enough exercise you’d be the best dog in the world!” He rolls away from Tiny and towards me and it feels like a small victory.  

I mirror his pose. Two guys lying on the ground face to face on their stomachs. My chin rests on my clasped hands. “What else?”

“You’d be independent but also fiercely loyal. You’d come up to me for cuddles all the time because you’d love me.”

I feel my face go red.

“If you were my dog.” Even with the throat clearing.

“Sure. But you’d also have to wait while I peed and you'd have to scoop my poop in the park.”

“Shit. I forgot about that.” He raises an eyebrow. “But it would be worth it because I’d also get to give you a bath once in awhile.”

I-

He springs up onto his feet and dusts himself off. “Right. Are you ready to get back?”

                       

                 +++

 

Night time.

I am in bed but I can't sleep. I am texting random shit with Jonas while listening to [Straight Outta Compton](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Straight_Outta_Compton) but I can't stop thinking about today and grinning like a fool. I loved spending time with Even.

There I said it.

"I liked spending time with Even. I thought he looked really fit."

I say it out loud into my empty room and then sigh with joy.

Ugh. I text Jonas again.

 

 

_Did you get invited to Even's_

_place  for a bbq tomorrow?_

 

_No. Did you?_

 

_Yeah. Not sure about going_

_though. He's got some asshole_

_uni friends with him this year._

 

_Why are they assholes?_

 

Actually. Why do I think they are assholes?  Other than being a little dismissive about the shop that one time I have had literally zero interaction with them.

 

_They're probably not. I've only_

_met them once._

 

_So then go. You know it'll be_

_awesome. Apparently they hired_

_a boat for three days of solid_

_partying. Can you imagine!!!???_

 

_It wasn't hired. It belongs_

_to one of them._

 

_Wow._

 

_It just seems weird to go._

_I'_ _ve never_ _gone when it's_

 _been_ _us without_ _parents_

 

_What's the difference?  You and_

_Even get along don't you?_

 

_Yeah._

 

 _B_ _T_ _W what's the link between_

_lamborghinis and robots?_

 

_Is that a trick question?_

 

_No. It came up in conversation_

_with Even_

_Oh. Well then that makes sense_

_then._

 

_????????_

 

_His car. Transformers, dude._

 

_Robots in disguise!!!_

 

 _When I first_ _saw Even's car I figured_

 _he'd seen Age of Extinction or something_ _._

 

 _I think it was released_ _a_ _co_ _uple of years_

 _ago. Shit movie._ _Awesome c_ _ar !!!_

__

 

_Oh._

 

_Did you get to ride in it today?_

_Jealous if you did_

 

_No. We just hung out._

 

 

_Nice._

 

I wonder how Jonas would react if I told him.  

I text, _Dude, by the way I'm gay and I think I have a thing for Even._

I get a knock on the door and dad comes in and saves me from a moment of stupidity. I nearly pressed send. Instead I delete the message.

 

"Hi, kiddo."

"Hi."

He slips something into the top drawer of my cupboard by the door and raises his hand while I quickly compose a different text for Jonas.

 

_Dad's just walked in to say_

_good night. I'll text you_

_tomorrow._

 

_Peace._

 

_Peace_

 

"Hey dad."

"You okay?"

"Yep."

"You look happy."

I shrug and stare at my phone.

"Good day with Even?"

"We walked Tiny and had a picnic."

"Sounds nice."

"Yeah."

"He told me something about a barbecue tomorrow. Are you going?"

"Yeah. I think so."

"Are your other friends going?"

"Who?"

Dad smiles. "Jonas. Mahdi. Eva?"

"Yeah. Maybe. Don't know."

"Cool. Okay. I just wanted to say that I'm calling it a night."

"Okay."

"Do you want me to turn the light out?"

"Yes please."

"Hey, Kid?"

"Yep?"

"Just left a little something in your top drawer."

"A present?"

"You could say that."

"Cool."

"Night."

He turns the light off and closes the door.  

Jonas said the movie that Even's car is featured in is called: Transformers: Age of Extinction.

Shit title.

I do a google search on my phone.

'Lamborghini transformers age of extinction'

This is what I find out:

1) The model is an  _Aventador,_ named, like all Lambo's, from bull fighting. Aventador was a bull that earned a trophy for its outstanding courage in 1993.

2) That Lamborghini has the worst website:

' _To us at Lamborghini, revolutionary thinking is a staple. Whether it is an aeronautics-inspired design, the technology of the V12 engine, or the extensive use of carbon fiber, going beyond the commonly-accepted limits is part of our philosophy. The new Aventador models have been designed to exceed the concept of performance itself, establishing a new benchmark for super sports cars, and turning the cars of the future into a present-day reality. A supercar family that has already become a legend in its own right._ '

Puke. Lots of words that mean nothing.

3) That it's a cool fucking car.

 

                 

 

4) That if the [trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dYDGqmxMZFI) is anything to go by the movie was not an Oscar contender but...

5) That the [car](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i-OI3olJlHo) looks like it was awesome in the film

 

I get it now. I get why Even bought it. The movie might be shit. The brand might be OTT but the childhood fantasy that the car inspires is one hundred percent real.

I go to text him.

 

_Hey._

 

I wait and hope that he will text me back.

 

_Hey. You still up? I thought_

_I wore you out today._

 

  _It takes more than that to_

_wear me out_

 

I wrote that on purpose because I know that he is going to write...

 

_Dick joke_

 

_Haha_

  

_I had a good time today._

_Somehow, as time goes on_

_you get_ _better and_ _better_

 _to hang_ _out with._

 

 _I'm like wine._ _I get better_

_with age!_

 

I don't know why I say shit like that to him; things that are on that fine line between banter and flirtation.

 

_And people get drunk on you._

 

That's why... because Even comes back with comments like that, which are flirty.... aren't they?  And inappropriate. Aren't they?!  For a dude with a girlfriend... Surely?!!!!!

 

_Thanks for the food._

 

_And the trip down memory lane._

 

_You're welcome._

 

_Are you working up to telling_

_me that you aren't coming_

_tomorrow?_

 

_No!_

 

_Good because I am looking_

_f_ _orward_ _to it_  

 

I hover over the keypad and think, _fuck it_.

 

_Same_

 

_Something weird happened_

_today_ _when you went to get_

 _T_ _iny. Remember the way_

 _I_ _was frowning when you got_

_back to the car?_

 

_So it wasn't because of your_

_stab wound._

 

_No. That's nearly completely_

_healed._

 

_A miracle!_

 

 _I know!_

 

 _The reason why I was_ _frowning_

 _was that I was_ _confused and_

 _s_ _hocked over something that I_

_had just seen._

 

__

 

_I was standing and your car_

_was just behind me. Then_ _I_

 _swear_ _that_ _out of my_ _peripheral_

 _vision_ _I saw a small movement._

 

I frantically look for a _gif_.  There. Yes! Perfect! 

 

_From where?_

 

_From your car! I freaked out but_

_I didn't move. And I didn't look_

_at it because I remember_ _what_

 _you said._ _A_ _nd then...._

 

_Yes...._

 

 

 _And then_ _this happened!_

                                                                                                                                                                                                        

It turned into a robot.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would love to hear your thoughts on what's happened and what might happen in the story.
> 
> What's the deal with Even and Iben?  
> How did both lads come out to friends/family?  
> How/when does the kiss happen?  
> Are they both just really dumb to not realise they have the hots for each other?  
> What's Fredrik's present?
> 
> I love theories.


	8. The One With The Purchase, The Breakfast, and The Pool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunscreen and Space stations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. I have been away. Thanks for reading!

**This Summer- Even**

 

It’s 10.55. Elise and I are sitting in my kitchen looking over some papers. We had arranged to meet weeks ago when I was still in Oslo but it slipped my mind so now I am double booked. Meeting with Elise at 10.00-11.00. Having breakfast with Isak at 10.30 onwards.

I look at the wall clock. Where is he anyway? It’s a good job I got everything ready for our breakfast before Elise got here. The table is set outside by the pool. The bread is kneaded and proofing. There are eggs in a basket on the counter and I have chopped all sorts of things that we can put into personalised omelettes- all in small bowls in the fridge. So when Isak gets here we’re good to go.

 _If_ he gets here. Because maybe he’s really not that into the thought of hanging out with me. On the one hand, _he_ was the one to come up with the idea last night. On the other, at the kayak shop yesterday his reaction to me was distant and cold. His face fell when I suggested we kayak together.

I don’t get it.  What we have had over the years has been so easy. Fun. So when what happened between us last summer happened I saw it as an evolution of what we already had.  Not something I expected but something that I am 100 percent down for.

It felt right.

And he acted like he was down for it too. So something has changed or I misread him. That is why I want to see him. To understand what the fuck is going on. To chill and to talk. The kind of talking that is light but also deep and at times laced with pent up desire. Mine and, I hope, his. I want him to relax and be him and go with the flow and I want to bring up the elephant in the room. I want to stop being careful and I want to tell him, and show him, how I feel so that he can be left with no doubt.  I nearly told him last summer on that rock by the lake house...

But if I do, how will he react?  What if he is like ‘oh. fuck. no. get. away. from. me?’

“And then I stripped naked in the bank...” Elise says. “... and sang the national anthem while running around the room.”

I feel a light nudge in my ribs.

“Did you hear what I said, Even?”

“Huh?”  I look at Eli, then glance at the wall clock- 11.01- and my phone.  No messages. No missed calls. I stop my knee from it’s nervous jerk. “Something about… anthems.”

Eli follows my gaze to the time. “Your breakfast plans are looking more and more like lunch plans.”

“Yeah.”

Isak has probably bailed on me.

“Who’s this friend that you have coming over, anyway?”

“One of the locals. A friend.”

“Oh yeah?”

I nod. “Something’s probably come up. It’s fine.” It isn’t. It’s fucking bullshit. I was looking forward to seeing him.

She wiggles her eyebrows. “Just a friend? I saw what you’ve got going on in the garden. Intimate table for two by the pool under a shade sail.”

“Intimate?”

Hardly.

“It’s a candle and rose away from romantic, Even.”

Really? Fuck. I was deliberately trying not to go OTT with today.

“It’s just a friend.” I mumble.

“Sure. Whatever you say.” She winks. “Bet she's hot.”

I roll my eyes.

“ ‘Course she is. You always get with hot ones! I mean Iben was...”

I freeze up at the mention of her name. My heart speeds up. Throat tightens.

Eli puts on a face of ecstasy. “... I mean damn! I remember when she’d come to see you at work...” She clasps her chest as if she’s having palpitations. “How is she anyway?”

“We don’t talk anymore.” I manage to squeeze out before changing the subject. “So I guess we are pretty much done here?”

“Yes.”

“When will you have the final papers ready for me to sign?”

“Should be sometime next week, I’d imagine.”

“Great.” I stand up as Eli gathers her papers and places files into her work case. “Thanks for driving over.”

“Not a problem. I like taking a trip out here. So peaceful.”  

“It is.”

She takes my hand. “Congratulations once again on the property. It’s a great personal investment.”

“Thanks.”

“I am not even going to ask you how you found it. It’s really tucked away.”

“Luck I guess.”

“Must be the Bech Næsheim touch.”

“Must be.”

I walk her through the house, the front door and across the garden towards the main gate.

“What are you thinking? Tear down the building and make a little getaway spot? Man cave?”

“Maybe.” It’s what any investor worth his or her salt would do with the derelict property but I’m not so sure. There’s laughter and memories in that old home.

I open the side gate for her and she steps out.

“I’ll see you back in Oslo.”  She pulls me into a hug. “It’ll be great to finally have you as a full time member of the team, boss.”

“It’ll be good.”

I pull away and I see Isak behind her. Where did he appear from?

“Hi.”

I feel like I have been punched in the chest but like a really good, delicious punch. Seeing him makes me realise that a part of me had given up on the idea of him showing up.

I move towards him.

“Hi.” He jumps off his bicycle and stares at Elise. “Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s fine.” I say.

“He didn’t think you’d come. He’s been clock watching.” Elise interjects.

“No I haven’t.” I protest.

“He has.”

Thanks for that, Eli. Thanks.

Isak looks apologetic. “I had to take Tiny for a walk and she was playing up as usual.”

“Tiny the terror!”

He smiles. “Yeah. Unless you’re around. Then she acts like a fucking saint.”

“Because she loves me.” I tease.

“Are you saying she doesn’t love me?” There is a twinkle in his eye.

“Who wouldn’t love you?”

He blushes. “A lot of people.”

“Mother fuckers.” I mutter and he grins.

I hear a sharp cough from Elise.

I forgot she was there. Not going to lie.

Isak’s eyes are saying, ‘who the fuck is this?’

I point at her. “This is Elise.”

“Hi!” She says and takes his hand.

“Isak. Hi.”

“Isak works at the kayak shop.” I say. “He’s just graduated too.”

“From UiO?”

Isak shakes his head. “No. High School. Just a few miles away.”

“Cool.” Elise pats my chest. “I have known this guy for a few years now.”

I smile. “Yeah. Uni. Eli was a year ahead of me. She started working for _BN Global_ last year.”

“Only because Even had been working there part time since starting Uni. When I graduated he put in a good word for me when I went up for interview. The rest, as they say is history.”

“You work together?”

Eli nods. “Yes but he’ll be my boss in a couple of months. It’s amazing how easily _some_ people can slide into positions of power, isn’t it! But I guess that’s what happens when your name’s on the company letterheads and your mum is CEO!”

She laughs and I smile. “Haha. Funny.”

She kisses my cheek. “Anyway. Got to go. I’ll leave you boys to your breakfast.”

I give her a hug. “Cool.”

“I’ll e-mail you about the house. Bye Isak. Nice meeting you.”

“Yeah.”

I turn to him once she drives off. He has a face like thunder.  

“Was she implying that you didn’t deserve your job?”

“What? Elise? No.”

“That’s what it sounded like to me.”

I smile because he is genuinely upset. Arms folded across his chest. Deep frown on his face.

“Down boy.” I grin. “I know Elise. She was joking.”

I take his bike from him and lead him into the complex, towards the house.

He huffs. “Well, she’s not funny.”

“I’ve figured out what dog breed you’d be.”

“Huh?” Then he remembers and rolls his eyes. “Took you a year to decide?”

“Yep.”

“Go on then. Let’s hear it.”

“Border Collie.”

 

                

 

He cocks his head to one side. “Really?”

I nod. “Intelligent. Extremely energetic. Acrobatic. Athletic. A great companion.”

“Acrobatic?” He smiles.

“I mean, aren’t you?!”

He thinks about it. “I can suck my big toe, I think.”  He says that completely dead pan.

And I burst out laughing. “What?!”

“Yeah! I tried it once!”

“Why the fuck?!”

He grins. “Can you suck your big toe?”

“Why would I want to suck my big toe?!”

“I’ll show you how it’s done later.”

Goddamn.

 

+++

 

We are in the kitchen and Isak is talking shit as he looks at the bowls of chopped ingredients for our omelettes.

“Daniel prepared this, didn’t he?”

“No!”

“Daniel!” He shouts. “Come out so I can see you!”

“You know he can’t do that.”

“Because he’s made up?”

“No. Because I’ve locked him up.”

He cracks a smile. “Or actually, didn’t you say you were going to fire him yesterday?”

“I was…”

“But...”

I give him a guilty look. “But then I felt bad about leaving him jobless...”

He looks skeptical. “You just didn’t want to give up on his hand jobs.”

“No.  Okay. Maybe a little!” He laughs. “Look, I’ll ditch him the second I’m with that special someone.”

“Who’s that then?” He asks.

“I don’t know.” YOU! YOU IDIOT!!! “Someone who’s into me as much as I’m into them… and is willing to wank me off… obviously...”

I give him a cheeky grin. “Then Daniel is gone.”

“Well… um… okay.” Isak looks down. “So what are you making for breakfast?”

“ _We_ are making omelettes. DIY.”

“But I can’t cook, Even.”

“Bet you can.”

 

+++

 

He really can’t.

Actually, that’s not a fair comment because we haven’t even gotten to the cooking part yet.  

“Have you never cracked an egg before?!” I am laughing as we stand at the kitchen counter, our hands hovering over a shared large clear mixing bowl which contains a couple of cracked eggs… with pieces of egg shells. I pick the shell fragments out.

 

                  

 

“Yes. Of course I have!” He grins sheepishly. “Like maybe once.”

“The idea is to NOT have the shell pieces in the egg! Or to have egg all over your hands!”

“I know!”

I take a kitchen towel and wipe the slime off his hands.

“Okay. Show me.” He says and leans on the counter. “How to crack an egg properly.”

“You want me to show off?”

“Can I stop you?!”

I grin and pick up an egg. Clean crack against the edge of the bowl. Open the crack to allow the contents to fall into the bowl, one-handed.

 

              

 

No spill. No shell debris. I throw the two halves of the shell into the bin and show him my clean hand.

“Impressed?”

He huffs and picks up a fork. “At least I can scramble.”

I watch him as he does and I move in a little closer. “So what do you want in yours?”

“Mine?”

“Yep. I’m making yours and you’re making mine.”

“I have a better idea.”

Of course he does. I sprinkle a pinch of salt and pepper as he whisks with a fork.

“Let’s make one omelette and put everything in.” He looks over at me. “Then we can share.”

 

+++

 

“I’m SOOOOO full!” Isak moans as he lounges right by the side of the pool.

He has decided against using the lounging chairs and is instead lying on a bath towel on the ground.

He has an arm outstretched, lapping at the water.

I am sitting in a chair a few feet away but unlike him I have a snapback and shades on... and the shade sail to shield me from the direct heat. I have skin that goes from pale to painful within minutes of direct sun exposure. Sore, red and flaky skin is no fun. Fact. I have come to accept that my pale complexion is a year round situation.

Meanwhile Isak is basking in the heat. Eyes closed, t- shirt off and swimming shorts pulled up to his groin to maximise his skin’s exposure to the rays. Happily turning an even darker shade of tan.

I am trying not to take advantage of the situation; trying not to create a memory bank and filing this particular view under ‘Isak looking hot in the sun’. I am trying but I am only human and it’s hard to ignore his mop of blond messy locks, the handsome lines of his face, the smoothness of his slim yet toned chest, the slope of his bum. His long restless legs.

“Okay. I concede.” He folds his arms across his chest.

I push my shades up my nose in case he might have caught me eyeing him up.

“Concede what?”

“You can cook.”

I grin. “An omelette doesn’t count.”

“It does to me. It was yummy.”

“Thanks.”

He runs the palm of one hand over his chest slowly, downwards until it stops low on his belly.

“I should probably put more sunscreen on.” He mutters. “My skin is on fire.”

“Here.” I throw it at him and it lands on the ground next to him.

He doesn’t make a move to pick it up but looks over at me.

“Aren’t you going to put it on?”

“Too tired.”

“It won’t apply itself, Isak.”

He shrugs. “I know.”

Is he-? Is he expecting me to-? No…Can’t be. That’s my wishful thinking. Because he can’t be implying that he wants _me_ to slather sunscreen on him. Can he?

“Can’t have you catching skin cancer on my watch.”

“Dramatic.”

I stand up and walk over to him. My feet stop either side of his hips so that I cast a shadow on him.

He smiles up at me. “Eclipse.”

I lean over him and his smile falters. His breath hitches. I pick up the sunscreen and hold it out to him. “Please put some on. I don’t want you to get burned.”

THAT. TOOK. SELF. CONTROL.

_I don’t ever want to see you hurting or unwell._

 

+++

 

Isak has joined me at the table we had breakfast on, finally under some shade after being defeated by the unrelenting sun. We are huddled close and have been looking at celestial images he has taken using Evan on his google photos app on my laptop.

I can feel the warmth of the sun on his skin where his arm touches mine. I can smell the scent of sunscreen coming off his body as he points at the screen.

“... And that’s the International Space Station. The most expensive thing ever constructed. It’s been in orbit around Earth since 1998.”

                  

                  

                  

 

“I can’t believe people live there.” I say.

“Cool right? Just chilling there, travelling 7.7 kilometers per second around the Earth. Can you imagine?!  And they’re doing all kinds of scientific experiments. It’s so awesome.”

I love it when he is in full geek mode.

“Right now there are two astronauts and a cosmonaut on board. A Russian guy and two Americans.”

“What's the difference?”

“Between astronauts and cosmonauts? The Russian Space Agency uses the term cosmonauts instead but they’re pretty much the same thing.”

“Has a Norwegian ever been on the international space station?”

“No. Never.”

“You should be the first.”

He grins at me. “Can you imagine?”

“I can.”

“I can’t.”

“What kind of attitude is that? Coming from the guy who graduated top of his class.”

“Who told you?”

“I have sources.”

He looks at me.

“Your dad.” I confess. “I tried to find out how your exams went from you a few weeks ago but your number wasn’t working.”

“I had to get a new one.”

“Yeah, I know now. So anyway, he told me. You should celebrate.”

“I did. With Eva, Madhi and Jonas.”

Eva? Ugh.

But I say, “Nice.”

“Yeah. We just chilled. Had a barbecue.”

“Barbecue?” Thinking about that makes me think about my BBQ last year.

“Yeah. In my backyard.” He says.

I try not to look at his lips even though thinking about my barbecue reminds me of how those lips unexpectedly pressed themselves to mine.

“Must have been hot.”

 _Don’t stare at them_ even though they are so fucking tempting and pink and being moistened by his tongue.

 _Don’t do it_ …

 _Don’t be a perv_...

 _Don’t be_ that _guy, Even_ .

But how can I not be _that_ guy when our kiss was fucking hot.

“Yeah, it was.” Isak’s lips say.

I look into his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“It was a hot day.” He smiles. “Shall I show you more pictures?”

I nod.

“This is a [video ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xOsOifg4Mm0)I took of the ISS with the naked eye.”

“Say what now?”

“The International Space Station. See. It’s looks like a plane but much brighter and much, much faster.”

That’s pretty cool.

“Guess where their drinking water comes from?”

I frown. “I don’t think I want to know.”

“It’s a Water Recovery System they have. They recycle their urine.”

He giggles when my face scrunches up.

I love it when he laughs. I automatically feel a million times lighter. Better.

“How about sex?” I ask.

“Huh?”

“Sex.”

“I, uh. I don’t- I don’t know...”

“On the ISS.”

“Oh! The ISS! You mean whether anyone has done it there?”

I nod.

He exhales. “There is nothing official.”

“You’ve actually researched it?!”

He smiles. “Because I have a curious mind.”

“What did your curious mind find out?”

“I don’t see how it could happen. There are too many challenges. Like, there’s nowhere to slip away and do it without anyone finding out. If you do slip away the spaces are really narrow. And then there is the whole zero gravity thing.”

I get a visual. Isak and me. “You couldn’t get a rhythm going.”

He nods. “It would be a total mess.”

“Cum everywhere.”

“Floating around.” He smiles.

“Like confetti!”

“Wet confetti!”

“Unless it was contained…” I consider, thinking out loud. “Like you’d have to cum into something or someone.”

Isak looks at me with wide eyes.

I clear my throat. “Uh, I’m just thinking out loud.”

“Even if you managed to do it, afterwards, all you’d have to clean up with is a washcloth and a tablespoon of water.”

“Seriously? Recycled urine water?”

He nods.

“Then no offence but, fuck space.”

 

+++

 

We are in the pool, wading.

I press my back to one of the edges, anchor my arms on the ledge and paddle my feet while Isak floats in front of me.

“Why are you so far away?” I ask.

He dips his head underwater. When he surfaces, he is all smiles and floppy hair in eyes and swims a little closer.

“You were saying that you’ll be working with a team of ten other people to start with including Elise.”

“Yes.”

“She’s pretty.”

“Do you think so?”

He shrugs. “I think she fancies you.”

I laugh.

“Why is that funny?”

“Because there is zero chance that she fancies me.  She’s into girls.”

“Oh.” He smiles. “Cool.”

“Why is that cool?”

“Because… um… I mean it just is.”

“True.”

Isak shakes his head as we bob up and down in the water. “I can’t picture you in your own office. Dressed up in a suit.”

“You’ve seen me in a tux.”

“Yeah. But it’s not the same. A suit is like, it’s like you are a proper grown up now.”

We are so close that my feet accidently tangle with his.

He jolts and pulls away.

I look at him curiously.

“Do you remember that game we used to play in the water when we were kids?” He asks.

“Which one?”

He doesn’t answer me but just dives backwards, breaches the surfaces of the water without much of a ripple and does an underwater belly-up [dolphin kick ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xzjEyc7Kz4)until he is on the other side of the pool.

He comes up for air and looks over at me.

“What are you doing over there?”

He grins. “We used to race. Who could get from one side to the other quicker? And whoever won, best of three...”

“... Got to dare the other one to a challenge. Yeah. I remember. I always won!”

“Not always.”

“Pretty much though.”

“So are you going to race me or not?”

“This got serious fast!” I say as I watch him get into position on the other side.

“Competition is always serious! Are you ready to get beaten?”

I laugh. “I was about to ask the same question!”

“Haha! Okay, Mr Bech Naesheim. You are going down!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. I am already rehearsing my victory speech!”

“I am sorry no one is going to get to hear it!”

“Okay. Enough fight talk!”

“Yep.”

“Ready.”

“Set.”

“Go!”

I swim as if I am swimming for gold at an Olympic finale.

I tap the tiles at the other end and turn around. I watch as Isak taps the other side just after me.

Round one. 1 - 0 Bech Naesheim to Valtersen.

Round two. I fuck up. Start a fraction too late and pay the price. 1 - 1.

Round three. Isak is trash talking like crazy and I have to hide my smile because he is somehow adorable and aggressive at the same time.

  * “When you lose your tears will be able to fill another pool this size!”
  * “Thanks for taking your time just now. I managed to catch up on some sleep while waiting for you to get to your side.”
  * “Granddad has emphysema and is looking for someone to swim with who is on his level.  I’ll give him your number!”



“Are you done?” I say finally.

“Yep.”

“You do realise that whether I come first or not I still win.” I grip the side of the pool and get ready.

“What?” Isak looks confused.

“Ready?”

“No!”

“Set.”

He gets in position and looks more determined than usual.

“Go!”

I don’t move an inch. Isak on the other hand swims towards me at lightning speed.  We are actually pretty evenly matched, he and I.  What I gain in sheer speed and limb length he gains back in technique.

His hands hit the tiles just to the side of me and he rises out of the blue with a huge grin on his face which disappears the second he sees me right next to him.

He is panting lightly. Chest heaving as water rivulets fall down his body.

“You didn’t go?”

“No. I got cramp in my leg.” I lie.

“Oh.”

I shake my head. “That’s a lie. I don’t have cramp.”

“So that means I won.” He gives me a smug smile.

“Are you pleased with yourself?”

“Yep.”

“So now you get your prize.”

He searches my eyes, pushes his hair out of his face. Unsuccessfully because it flops back into his eyes.

I can’t help but creep closer to him.  “What’s my challenge then?”

He swallows. “I don’t know yet.”

I don’t know what makes me so bold but I gently comb his hair off his face, glide my fingers through his scalp. Circle my hand around the nape of his neck. Keep it there.

Maybe I fucked up with my tactic.  Maybe I should have made every effort to win because then I would be the one in control. I could have dared him to kiss me. That would have been my challenge for him. No hesitation.

Instead, now, I am at his mercy.

I look at his lips and worship them with my eyes. I can’t help myself. Mine ache with the memory of him.

“Actually...” He whispers.

And I can’t wait any longer because he is looking at me in some type of way and my heart takes control.

I pull him to me.

Dip my head closer to his.

His eyes track mine, then track my mouth.

I let our foreheads touch. Watch his eyes flutter shut. His breathing kicks up a notch.

And I get closer. Close my eyes too.

I feel his arms, warm and slippery, fold over my shoulders.

I let the feeling of relief and joy come over me.

Finally , I savour the pressure, heat and softness as we kiss.

And kiss.

And kiss.

And we give each other secret smiles. Smiles of relief, joy and pleasure.

And then we kiss some more because  this moment feels like our past, present and future colliding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was that sappy? Fuck yeah!  
> Do I regret it? Heck no!
> 
> Will the joy last? ...  
> ...  
> ...


	9. The One Where Isak Dresses Preppy, Where Even Gets Turned On and The First Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sucking Toes FTW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am genuinely overwhelmed by the response to the last chapter. I should go away more often!!! You guys motivated me into whipping out chapter 9 in record speed
> 
> xxx

**This Summer- Isak**

 

Fuck. Even is kissing me. My 'kind-of' friend since childhood. The rich kid with the house on the hill. My summer acquaintance. The guy who confuses me; who I have been really into despite trying not to be. Despite what happened last year and my better judgement that tells me that I am bound to get hurt. AGAIN.

We are kissing each other and it's made me weak at the knees. Legless. It's a good job we're floating in his pool because I wouldn't be able to stand on my own two feet.

This is my wish come true. My secret longing. It feels like an alternate reality because I honestly can't believe that Even fancies me back. But this is real, not some late night fantasy or daydream.

So I have no chill. I'm down for the kiss he started. I hear myself moan as his lips part against mine, as his tongue laps at mine, teases and curls. His kiss strips me of oxygen and my ability to think properly. To act cool. I don't know when my arms flopped onto his shoulders to circle his neck, but I use them to pull him to me so that he can't stop. So that we can carry on making out for as long as I want. And I want.

He pulls back. There is passion in his eyes. He whispers, "Damn."

Not sure what he means but I smile. He kisses me and the heat goes up. He pushes me against the edge of the pool, traps me there. I want to tell him that I really like him but I can't find the words so I show him instead. Our torsos collide and our legs slip and slide and there's a flutter in my chest and a rush of blood to my groin as I press my lips against his and play tongue twister with him.

_“Food is what led Jonas and me to sleep together for the first time. He made me some really nice spaghetti and then I was naked on my back with my legs up being banged."_

Eva's words whiz through my brain. Is that what's about to go down? I'm not ready... am I? Maybe I am... I mean, Even made me a _REALLY_ nice omelette!

I swallow a smile.

"What is it?" He runs a thumb slowly along the line of my jaw. Rests it on my chin.

"Nothing."

I shake my head but my heart is beating quickly. It's the thought of me and him doing it. The visual of it in my mind. It swirls through my head as passion flows in my veins.

Even touches his lips to mine. This time it's soft. Gentle. Tender. I comb my fingers in his hair and go with the flow. Our eyes meet. It's Even. The Even I have always known. The Even I have (almost) always liked. I feel comfortable with him. At home. I feel over his arms, trace down his chest. I deepen our embrace while my hands keep going. South.

His stomach muscles tense and he grips my hands in his when I reach the waist of his swimming shorts. He stops me and guides my arms to hold his sides.

I pull him into another kiss and honestly, I don't know exactly what I want, all I know is that I want this to continue. More kissing. More touching. More feeling horny. More Even. More. We won't get ' _more'_ easily in this pool because even though doing  _stuff_ is not impossible, unlike in space, the floating and wet slipperiness of the water are unhelpful.

"So what was your challenge going to be?" He asks quietly. "For beating me at swimming."

"Oh." I try to think about it. "I can't think of one."

He smiles. "Because I kissed you? I've distracted you?"

"No." I roll my eyes at him. "Such ego."

He laughs. "Do you regret it? Kissing me?"

"No." I hate that I blush so easily. I shake my head. "No."

"Phew." He exhales and gives me a small smile.

Did he really doubt that I would regret our kiss?

"Actually about the challenge...I was kind of thinking ... it's my 18th birthday soon."

"I know. Three days." He rests his hands on my hips. "Congratulations."

He gives me a peck on the lips that gets me giddy.

"Thanks."

I bite my lip then think _'what do I have to lose?_ '. "And I haven't really made any plans."

"You're not celebrating with your friends?"

"There's no fixed plans so I was thinking that you and me could do something together, you know, with the other guys... of course..."

He raises an eyebrow. "Do something?"

"Yeah..." I pull him into my arms. "What do you think?"

"Sounds amazing."

"Cool."

"What do you think we should do?" He rests his forehead against mine and rubs his nose against the tip of mine. It makes me smile because it's a little ticklish.

"Dunno." I murmur. " _Stuff_."

His breath is a whisper against my lips. An invitation that I cannot turn down. I lean in but he pulls away a fraction.

" _Stuff_?" He whispers softly. "Very precise."

"Yep." I nod.

"It's okay. Leave it with me. I'll get Daniel on the case."

Ha! Daniel. It's a joke that never gets old. "I don't want a hand job from him."

"Blow job then?"

"No."

"Okay. I'll think of something else. I like the idea of doing..."

I reach in for a kiss interrupting his sentence. Sorry not sorry. He captures my lower lip gently between his teeth. He sucks on it then lets it go.

He grins. "I was saying that I like the idea of doing _stuff_ with you."

He pulls me into a deliciously fiery hold. The way he kisses me - it's heated, heady and heart-meltingly raunchy. I feel like he will consume me whole. Like I will combust because he is my oxygen and I am pure fire in his arms. I feel like our kisses will imprint themselves on my skin so that when I am not with him, he will still feel close and people will somehow know that he made me putty in his hands.

He looks at me like I am the centre of his existence, the sun to his solar system, but his sexual experience is light years ahead of mine. I can sense it in his effortless confidence.

"You're so fucking hot." He murmurs.

"Yeah right." I say that but my heart skips a beat.  The way he says it makes me almost believe him.

I want him.

I want Even.

I want to get more experienced _with_ him. I don't want to be _naive_ anymore. I'm nearly fucking eighteen for fuck's sake.

I whisper into his ear, "Let's get out of the pool."

"You don't want to swim anymore?"

I shake my head. I am literally burning up when I say, "I, um, I want to show you my big toe thing. Where I can suck it."

"Oh."

"Because you said I was acrobatic so."

"I remember."

I kiss his cheek and climb out of the pool before I say anything more embarrassing.

He gives me a sheepish look while staying in the water when I reach out with a hand.

"Give me a minute."

"Why?"

He takes a deep breath, reaches for his crotch and looks up at me.

"I've got a fucking boner."

 

+++

 

                     

 

It is strange how quiet the house is with just the two of us. We have walked over to Even's living quarters and my heart beat is so fucking loud that I swear Even must be able to hear it.

Right now he is on the other side of his bedroom door.  We have showered off the pool water- separately- and I am now in his bedroom sitting on his bed having changed into clothes that he laid out for me.

 _"It's fine. I'll just let my swimming trunks air dry."_ I had said after the shower with a bath towel tied around my waist when he offered to lend me clothes.

 _"But that will take a while."_ He cocked his head. _"Unless you're happy to go around naked while we wait."_

I grabbed his clothes and said, _"No! Okay. I won't be long. See you."_

He hesitated for a second then stepped out of his room while I shut the door in his face.

I don't know why I suddenly got so weird with him, guess it was just cold feet, but anyway... here I am, changed and sitting barefoot on his bed, tugging at a white polo shirt with black stripes which is one size too big for me and staring at the pair of olive shorts that I have on.

So fucking preppy. So Even.

 

                      

 

I have a think and take the top off, lie down on his bed and smile towards the door.

 _'Oh, hi there, Even. I want us to have sex now please but just take it slow, yeah? Kind of my first time going 'all the way'.Thanks_.'

No! What am I doing?! I sit back up again. Put the polo shirt back on.

I look around his room. Clean lines. Tasteful furniture. Minimalist. Two walls are floor to wall windows with amazing views of the fjord below. But the other two walls project Even's personality. His spontaneous drawings and photos.

I bounce on the mattress. Fuck. I just got a flashback to last year and me in Even's bed... I stand up immediately. Nope. I can't be on the bed when he comes back.

I sit cross-legged in the armchair next to the window instead.

"Are you nearly done?" He shouts across the door.

"Yes. Dressed."

He comes in. "Damn. Too late!" 

"Haha."

"You look good." He walks up to me and I look up from the chair.

I scoff.  "They look better on you."

"I don't agree."

"Do you want to see my trick? Well not a trick but the toe thing-" I'm rambling so I just get on with it, lift my right leg slowly and get my foot up to my face. "See."

"I don't see any toe sucking."

"You don't need to see me suck my toe. It's right here. Near my mouth. You can imagine the sucking bit."

"I feel let down. I expected toe sucking, Isak. You promised toe sucking."

I cock my head to one side. "Don't laugh though."

"I won't."

I grab my foot with both hands. "It's a good job I just washed my feet."

"Stalling."

"I'm not."

I stare at him and wrap my mouth around my big toe. Swirl my tongue around it. Take a couple more toes into my mouth too. Get them wet. And for some reason I don't stop there. I bob my mouth over them, up and down. I am perfectly aware that I am simulating something else. A sexual act. I am not that naive! I am just desperate for him to know that I am down for doing _stuff_. I just don't know how to let him know...

So I am sucking my big toe in front of him. This is not sexy.

Major facepalm.

I look at Even with my mouth full of my toes and his eyes are so wide that I can see white all around his irises.

"Wow."

"That's it!" I put my foot down. "Now I feel embarrassed. Stop looking at me like that."

"That's hot."

"Don't mock me."

"I swear! I'm being honest." Actually he does look in awe.

"Cool." I grin. "How about this then."

I put my foot behind my head so that the ankle rests on the nape of my neck.

He takes my breath away with a kiss.

 

+++

 

We have ended up in bed somehow. Making out and cuddling. And my top aka. his polo shirt is on the floor somewhere.

Even rolls on top of me and wedges a leg between mine. He is mouth-watering. He takes my breath away with the way he looks at me. The way he caresses my face, fingers my hair, peppers kisses all over my face, neck, chest and shoulders. 

"Is my room how you remember?"

"Um hum." I am distracted by the gentle strum of his fingers across my nipples. I arch up into his touch.

"Or do you remember?" He gives me a small smile.

This feels intimate. In the privacy of his own room his bed is our own temporary island getaway.

"Yeah. I remember." How could I forget?

"It's just," He stops his strokes and searches my eyes, "I tried calling you after. Repeatedly. I went round to the shop and your place."

Why is he bringing this up now when we are having a good time, when my skin is singing from his touch and keen for more? I am trying to forget the events that happened the day after the barbecue. Events that hurt me. That made me change my opinion of him.

"I didn't get your messages. Remember I lost my phone. Probably that day."

"At my barbecue?" He looks surprised.

"Or the day after. I don't know. There were loads of people there." I can't keep eye contact with him.  

"Okay, but why did you just up and leave? Your dad said you decided to spend the rest of your holiday away from the village. Last minute."

"I went to see mum. I hadn't seen her in ages."

"All of a sudden?"

I nod. "I needed to get away."

"From me?" Now he looks like the one that's hurt.

"No." But my _no_ comes out weak.  

"It was because of me." He leans in and looks puzzled and perplexed. "I don't get it. I thought we were good. I thought you and I were on the same page."  

I snap at that point because he can't seriously think that he can get away with the 'innocent ' act.

"Did you? And where did Iben fit in, huh? How do you think she felt about you and me?"

He looks petrified. As if he has been confronted by a monster. He has, because the monster is the ugly truth that he was a lying cheating asshole who went behind his girlfriend's back with me and nearly got caught.

I push him off me and sit up, reach for the polo shirt until I remember that it is his.

"How do you know about her?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Me and her. It was so fucking complicated, Isak. It's not what you think. I don't like talking about it and it's in the past. I didn't think you needed to get involved."

What. The. Fuck?

"People like you are so fucking used to getting what you want that you don't even see how fucked up your behaviour is!" I stand up in anger. "You got me _**involved** _ by messing around with me and telling me a bunch of lies about how you felt about me and then feeding her the same lies."

"No I didn't."

"Stop lying! I heard you!"

He looks taken aback.

See. There. What has he got to say about that?

I saw him with Iben with my own two eyes last summer.

"Okay. Okay. Do you want the truth?"

"Yes!"

"Okay. Fuck!" He looks stressed out. He takes deep breaths. Measured ones. Inhales and then slowly pushes out. Calming breaths as if what he is about to say is a big fucking deal for him. As if his nerves are shot over the prospect.

Well he should have thought about that before he fucked up.

"Okay. I'll tell you, Isak."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry...*ducks for cover*
> 
> There is always light at the end of the tunnel ; )
> 
> (Don't hate me... !)
> 
> Also for science.... Toe sucking: Thumbs up or thumbs down? Discuss and thank you.


	10. The One With The First Kiss, A Pool Party, Bob Marley and Isak's Disappearing Top

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Licking ice sculptures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What exactly happened last Summer? ...
> 
> +++
> 
> Summer is Over *cries silently*. I am sorry I have been so neglectful of this story. I have already had a stern word with myself about it and to (partly) make up for it I have written a long ass chapter! 
> 
> Warning:  
> \- typos  
> \- casual drug use and underage drinking. Not judging, just writing ; )

 

**Last Summer- Even**

 

**_Today..._ **

 

                                 

 

I don’t want to wake up. If I do I am sure that I will find out that yesterday was just a dream. I will know for sure that Isak didn’t come over to my place. Didn’t stay over after the party. I will have imagined that he gave me _those_ looks and said _those_ things to me. If I open my eyes it will have all been in my head and I will have to face a reality where he didn’t pull me into his arms and press his lips to mine.

I feel a warm presence in my bed. Snuggled up to me. Snuggling even tighter up to me. Big spoon to my little spoon. An arm circles my waist and it pulls me further away from sleep.

“Hi.” Comes a cracked whisper against my neck.

I open an eye.

 _Yeeeeesssssss_.

I turn around.

It's Isak.

_Be chill._

This version of Isak who is cuddled up to me, looking at me and giving me a sleep-soaked smile isn’t really here. Is he?

“You’re here.”

“Yeah.” His smile falters. “Did you think I’d be gone?”

The way he asks that sounds like, _Do you want me gone?_

“No. Awesome.” I stroke his smooth cheek and the barely there fuzz on his chin. He _is_ real. “I love that you're here.”

I coax him closer to me, my finger on his chin. Softly, in case he bolts out of here or disappears into a ball of smoke.

I rub my nose gently against his.

“Morning.” I whisper.

“Morn-”

He doesn’t finish the word.  I can't wait a moment longer to kiss him again.

 

+++

 

**_Two days ago…_ **

What the fuck is happening? When did I start to see Isak differently; the way I am seeing him now?

When we were younger we were pushed together by our parents. They forced us to hang out as a convenient way to give them a moment’s peace but it wasn't long before we would seek each other out of our own accord. I would ask my folks if I could go chill with him at the kayak shop and he would cycle up to my place. I was like his protective older brother. I would be there for him; look out for him, tease him and make him laugh. Later, particularly in the last couple of years, he has become my friend; the guy from my summers who knows me better than most of my Oslo friends because I have never performed around or to him. I have just been me. I have grown to know him well, even just by being in snap shots of his life. I know that he doesn't let people in easily. Even to this day. But when he does, he reveals the amazing person that he is. A boy with big dreams and a bigger drive. Opinionated. Smart. Intriguing. Funny. Quirky and awkward.

Totally awesome.  

Right up until last summer that is what he was to me. An awesome summer friend. That changed when I saw him at the kayak shop with Tiny, when I was on my way to lunch with the boys.

Something else clicked into place.

Something I hadn’t felt before towards him.

I couldn't stop staring at him. I was attracted to him and after we left the shop I couldn’t stop thinking about him. And as I partied with my friends on Julian’s boat I wanted to see him again. And during the walk to the lake house he made my heart thump and I found myself losing my chill. I came this close to making a fool of myself; of saying too much, too soon.

Thank goodness for Tiny's interruption! 

I have a knot in my stomach as we stand at his front door. A knot because when he looks at me I get a powerful churn in my centre. Stronger than butterflies. Like a delicious gut punch.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” I say to break my thoughts.

“Yeah. Thanks for the picnic. I had a really good time.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

He smiles.

I punch the air. “Yes!”

“Or actually say thanks to Daniel for me. Tell him he should ask for a pay rise for being a great chef _and_ present shopper.”

I narrow my eyes. Cheeky fuck! “Who said Daniel chose your present? I'll have you know that was all me.” I grin and lean on the door frame. “And I'll prove the food thing tomorrow.”

He purses his lips. “I want to meet him.”

“Who?”

“Daniel.”

“Fuck Daniel. Why are we talking about him? He’s nowhere near as awesome as I am!”

“I could only judge that if I met him.”

“You think you're so clever, huh?”

“Yep.” He grins. “What are you doing now?”

“Looking at you. Trying to delay the good bye.”

_Easy, Even._

“You can come in if you want. Like, if you have the time. I’m not doing anything and I can show you what Evan can do now that I have figured him out... Dad’s not home so...”

I raise an eyebrow.

He blushes. “I mean, I know how he can get with asking you personal questions… like a weirdo.”

“I don’t mind the questions.” I look back and up at the sunny skies. “But can we see anything when it’s still daylight?”  

“Actually. Not as much. Not really. Okay.” He sighs. “Or we can maybe watch a movie or something?”

“Yep. Great.” I am through his door and in his house in a flash.

The venue- his bedroom.

The atmosphere- near darkness as Isak draws the curtains closed. The only light comes from the gap in the curtain drapes and the TV screen when he turns it on. I settle onto his bed and I prop my head up on some pillows as he turns the channel to a screen with a familiar black and red logo.

I raise an eyebrow to him. “Netflix… no chill?”

“What?”

I clear my throat. “Nothing.”

He settles on the bed next to me and scrolls through movie titles. “What do you want to watch?”

“You choose.”

He settles on the latest _Fast and Furious_ movie.

“Jeez! Really?” I tease.

“What! It’s a great movie franchise!”

I shake my head. “Wow. And there I was thinking you were perfect!”

He glances at me.

I smile. “... but then you got that 5 in physics and now this shit taste in movies?!”

“Urgh! Why d’you have to bring the 5 up again!?”

 

+++

 

Surprise. The movie sucks which is perfect because we can chat over it. Cue Isak's elaborate description of his ideal sandwich; fillings, condiments, sauces, type of bread.

I can’t take my eyes off him.  

He stops talking. “What?”

“Nothing.”

_I think you are amazing._

“I was listening. You were talking about three cheeses for your ‘heart attack on a piece of bread’ sandwich. I don’t know how you’re thin!”

“I am not thin!” He rolls back his sleeve and flexes. “Look.”

I stare at the mound of tense bicep. Give it a squeeze. Grunt in approval.

He pulls away. “I’m getting buff.”

“I’ve noticed.”

He gives me side eye.

“I’m serious.” I grin.  “Little six pack coming along…”

He rests his head back on the head board and flattens his t-shirt against his stomach. “It’s the kayaking and the football.”

“I play lacrosse.” I say. “You don’t see me getting ripped.”

I am 6 foot 4 inches of lankiness that you will never find in aspirational fitness mags. I am not crapping on myself- I am okay with my looks- but my body is far from the typical ideal of modern male beauty.

Isak glances at my body so I say “Hot Adonis” sarcastically.

“I bet girls really like the way you look.” He says.

“What makes you say that?”

He takes his time analysing me as the colours from the movie reflect off us.

“Because you look like you do. Like good.” He looks away. Back to the film.

“You think I look good?”

There's a small grin in his voice when he says, “A bit preppy.”

I look down at my sky blue polo shirt with upturned collar and cream knee length shorts with brown leather belt. He may have a point.

“What's wrong with that?!”

He giggles.

“It works!” I look at my clothes again.

After a moment’s silence he asks, “Hey, by the way, what was that cheese that you brought to the picnic?”

“ _Crucolo_.”

“I really liked it.”

“It’s an Italian artisanal cheese made from unpasteurised milk by a single producer in the North of Italy.”

He eye rolls.

“What!”

“You are just so… argh! Not a normal person! Why don’t you eat normal cheese like normal people?”

I love frustrated, cute, squinty-eyed Isak.

“It _is_ normal cheese… for North Italians… that mum gets imported.” I add sheepishly.

He cocks his head at me.  

“I wanted you to try it because I know how you like cheese and it’s her favourite.” I say.

“Oh.”

“She’ll like that you like it.”

“Why?”  

“Because my parents have always liked you.” I turn to him, “And I really like you.”

He hesitates and then says, “I like you too.”

He says it like- ‘Yeah, bro. Me too. No homo.’

“No. I mean-”

That’s when my phone rings. Stopping me. Thank goodness! What the fuck had I planned to tell him exactly?-

_‘No, I mean, I ‘LIKE you’ like you. Like I REALLY like you. As in if you’d let me I’d kiss you. If you’d let me I’d want to do a lot more with you.'_

“Are you going to get that?” He looks at my phone so I pick it up, glance at the caller ID. My heart sinks.

Fuck.

I turn the screen away from Isak’s eye line.

“It’s no one important.” But my voice is tight and giving away my surge of anxiety. I reject the call and turn my attention back to him.

He has sensed a shift in my mood.  He folds his arms across his chest. “Everything okay?”

A little too quickly I reply. “Yeah. What were we saying about cheese?”

 

+++

 

**_One day ago..._ **

The boys pile into my bedroom noisily, waking me up. It’s only just after 9.  

“Morning!” Tomas says excitedly. “Time to get up, mate.”

I rub my eyes and slowly sit up. “What are you doing up so early?”

“We have something to tell you. A surprise.”

Erik sits on my bed, “But first, can I borrow a couple of condoms? These guys are being dicks about sharing theirs.”

“Remember to bring your own then!” Alec teases.

“I did! It’s not my fault I’ve used them up! It’s like you all want me to get Chlamydia again!”

They laugh at him as I lean over to my bedside table, reach into a carved wooden box and toss a couple of packets at him.

“Damn, _playa_!” Tomas says to me. “Are you expecting some action?”

“I didn't buy them.” I mumble, fall back into my bed and rub my eyes tiredly. “And I'm no playa.”

“Says the guy with a year’s supply of condoms by his bedside.” Julian says.

“Says the guy who said he’d be gone for a couple of hours yesterday to go kayaking and then spent the whole day with his side dick!” Alec grins.

“How was kayak boy anyway?” Ismail asks.

“Fine.”

“So are you guys fuck buddies?" Erik asks. "I've been thinking and being gay would be pretty fucking sweet. You'd fuck then play video games together then go to a game then fuck again. No ‘period’ issues... Double the clothes options. A working understanding of each other's anatomy.”

He looks wistful.

Give. Me. Strength.

Ismail thumps the back of his head with an open palm. “They don’t accept idiots. And Even’s not gay, asshole. He’s open to all experiences!”He winks cheekily.

“Fuck off.” I reply jokingly.

“I know.” Erik stands up. “And I'm open to the experience waiting for me right now in my bed. So I'd love to stay and chat but-”

He dashes off.

“So is anyone going to tell me what the surprise is?” I ask the rest of the guys.

My phone rings and my blood immediately runs cold.

“It’s her again, isn’t it?” Julian shakes his head.

I nod.

“Did you answer her at all yesterday?”

“No. I didn't get a chance.”

“Good.”

I should answer though. If I do she might give me peace.

“Don’t answer, mate.” Tomas warns.

Too late.

“Iben.” I say. “Hi.”

“Hi! Finally!  I was worried something happened to you! Why aren’t you answering my calls?”

“I didn't have a chance earlier. How are you?”

“I’ve been thinking of you.”

“Yeah?”

“End the call.” Ismail mouths while slicing his index finger across his neck. The rest of the boys follow his lead.

“What’s that noise?” She asks sharply.

“The boys.”

“Who? Ismail?”

“And the rest.”

“I was talking to Eskild and he told me that you were going to be out of Oslo for the summer.”

Eskild is our co-worker at the coffee shop we both work at in Oslo.

“Yes. I told you I was off on holiday.”

“For fuck’s sake. End the fucking call, Even.” Alec whispers firmly.

“You didn’t say that you’d be gone for the _whole_ summer though.” She says. “Eskild also told me that you are throwing a huge party in the village today and that everyone from Oslo is going up for it.”

I frown. “I don't know where he got that from. I’m having a small barbecue thing with some friends, that’s it-”  

Ismail steals the phone from me. “Hi Iben. It’s Ismail.”

“... … …”

“Yeah. Look, Even can’t talk right now. We’re at a kayak place and our guide is waiting to take us out onto the water so.”

“... … …”

“Yeah. Exactly…. …. When he has a moment.”

“…. … …”

“Yeah sure. Bye.” He ends the call and hands me my phone. “How many times has she rang you?”

I check my call log. “17.”

“Since yesterday afternoon?”

“Yeah.”

  * “What?!”
  * “Fuck dude!”
  * “It’s not normal.”



My phone starts ringing... again.

It’s her... again.

Ismail points at my phone. “Case in point. You need breathing space, bro.”

“And I’m getting it out here with you guys.” I turn my phone to silent and push it under my pillow. “Apparently Eskild, you know the guy that we work with at the coffee shop, told her that I am hosting a party here today.”

Tomas looks so excited. “True story!!!”

“What?”

Ismail grins. “Surprise! We have scaled up your barbecue plans a _tiny_ bit!”

 

+++

 

When Ismail said ‘tiny’ he lied. It’s just before 1 pm and with two double shots of neat whiskey in my empty stomach- courtesy of Tomas- I’m starting to feel the buzz of alcohol in my veins.

I stand in the middle of my garden and take in the all out pool party. I slide on my sunglasses and adjust the trilby on my head.

There are well over one hundred people here. My loud, frantic, urban Oslo life has crashed into my chill, country existence. School. Uni. Social clubs. Family. Friends. All in one melting pot. In the pool, in the main garden. Also around the back where the views are of the fjord and the village below. There’s dancing, lawn games, chatting, eating, drinking, laughing.

PARTYING.

In Capitals.

We have a DJ. We have three chefs. Barbecuing chefs! We have a bar overflowing with drinks and a mixologist with endless flavour combinations. There’s a guy manning the gates, Lisen making sure that the actual house stays off limits (to all but my current house guests) and waiters and waitresses catering to the smallest need and want.

It’s as though, when the lads planned this behind my back, they set out to prove to Isak that I am exactly the kind of person he thinks I am.

Frivolous.

Overindulgent.

Over the top.

Spoilt.

Tomas raises a hand. Within seconds a waiter walks over to his table to clear empty bottles and glasses and replace them with a new bottle of 18 year aged single malt whisky and a clean round of shot glasses. A few university friends, Ismail’s girlfriend and the boys (except Erik, who is chatting up a group of girls) are gathered round. Tomas pours yet another heavy handed round.

I look over at the main gate as it slides open for what feels like the thousandth time today and the gatekeeper checks people in against a guest list.

Ismail smiles knowingly at me while Emma hangs by his side. “Gates are fascinating, aren’t they?”

I shrug.

“Who are you looking out for?” Emma asks.

“No one.”

“Even has a side-dick in the village! A ‘friend’.” Tomas tells Ismail’s girlfriend. 

“Oh. Right… in news surprising literally no one.” Emma rolls her eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I say defensively.

“That's your thing, right, no strings attached fun with friends when it suits you?”

“What?”

“Kids!” Ismail hugs his girlfriend. “Can we please just have fun? We’re at a party.”

I take a deep breath. My relationship with my best friend’s girlfriend is… delicate... to put it mildly.

“His name is Isak.” I tell her. “I’ve known him forever.”

“I'm just saying that you've got a track record for crossing the line with your friends and fucking shit up. I'm not wrong, am I?” Emma says.

I know what example she’s thinking of. Emma and I  went to high school together before uni. I knew her because at the time I was dating her best friend, Sonja. Unfortunately I fucked up. I'm not proud of myself. I was still a long way from accepting what made me tick. And in the process I cheated on Sonja with an unplanned kiss with my straight best friend, a guy called Mikael. It leaked because someone must have seen us. Sonja and the whole school found out before I had a chance to sum up the courage to come out myself. It was a shit show. Sonja dumped me, friends left me in droves because I cheated, lied or because I was 'bi'. And it affected my relationship with Mikki. Not because he was homophobic but because he was branded and anytime we tried to hang out, pictures were taken and hyper-romantic or erotic memes and _gifs_ were made and circulated.  It was too much for our friendship to survive.

That was my biggest regret. It's the worst thing about fuck ups. You can't turn back time and change them. All you can do is say sorry, mean it, fix what you can and do everything in your power never to make the same mistake again.

So I went to uni vowing to always be honest about my relationships. I started by being one hundred percent ‘out’ from day 1.

“Sonja and I get along now. There's no beef.” I tell Emma. "And I don't have a problem with you either."

Tomas drunkenly wraps an arm over my shoulders and wafts his bottle of whisky in my face, “Let’s do more shots.”

 

+++

 

**_A little later…_ **

I get an urge to call Isak so I walk to a quieter corner of the garden, around the back. His phone rings until his answer message plays,

“Hi. It’s Isak. Let’s face it, I’m probably star-gazing. Leave me a text. Bye.”

I wait for the beep.

“Hi.” I look down at the village and make out the dot that is the kayak shop. There are sounds of splashing water, yells and laughs to my right. “Can you hear that? There’s a tournament of piggyback fighting happening in the pool as we speak."

 

                     

 

"I know how competitive you get. You'd be in your element! I hope you're still coming. Or has your stab wound reopened and started bleeding or something?! No. It can’t be that because you looked fine to me yesterday.” I chuckle. Shit. I’m tipsy. But yeah he did look _fine_. “Anyway, I can come over and help get you better. There is probably some fake ointment that I can bring to rub into the wound that’ll help.”

One of my uni friends waves at me. “Even! There you are! Come on! Get in the pool! Ismail's lost and you're up next!” She shouts.

“Yeah. In a sec!”

I make my way to the pool and continue with my message. “I want you to know that I think you’re amazing and I love hanging out with you. This party is cool but you're the crucial missing ingredient. You’re like _crucolo_. And just as delicious. But I wouldn’t eat you. Even though I want to. A bit. In a non cannibalistic way. Anyway, please come. Bye.”

I end the message.

Ismail points at me from the pool, “Mate, did you just drunk dial kayak boy?”

“No.”

Yes. Yes I did.

Shit.

He laughs as he heaves himself out of the water.

 

+++

 

I drank a little too much a little too quickly. Which probably makes being in the pool a bad idea.

Oh well.

“You’re wasted!” Alec giggles.

“So are you!” I laugh. No more booze for me. Tomas has fucked us all up with his shots. “The tournament was a shit show.”

“I couldn’t stand straight never mind hold anyone on my shoulders!” Alec grins at me with heavy eyes as he wades near me.

“Yesterday when you were gone, I was telling the guys about how your thing with kayak boy is like that gay cowboy movie. _Brokeback Mountain._ Have you seen it?”

“No.”

“It was on TV the other week. It’s about two guys who fall in love against a countryside backdrop. Nature and shit. It’s set in the American Midwest, very conservative, so they keep their relationship on the down low.”

“They marry women. Beards.” Julian says. “That’s what they’re called.”

Where did he come from?

“That literally bears zero resemblance to my life.” I say.

“Maybe but we were all there in that shop. We saw the moment kayak boy came in with his dog.” Alec nods wisely. “The eye fucking.”

“There was no eye fucking!”

“There was eye fucking.” Julian says.

“Thank you.” Alec says.

I shake my head.

“And eye fucking leads to actual fucking.” Alec raises a finger. “Which reminds me. There is something else I need to tell you. Are you listening?”

“I have to. I'm right here.”

He nods as if he is about to say something deep. “You’ll probably have a _Brokeback-_ type tent scene together.”

Julian grins and nods. “Which one though? [First](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7qNfGiEHuUg) or [second](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hDmcHpv4X0I)?”

“[First](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7qNfGiEHuUg).”

“Oh shit!”

“What happens in the first one?” I ask.

Alec doesn’t answer because the girl from the boat party, the one he disappeared below deck with, is here and he looks so unbelievably happy. I guess I wasn’t the only one waiting for someone to come.

He starts swimming towards the pool’s edge as he shouts back, “Julian will explain.”

Julian turns to me. “Before I do I feel like I should tell you that from what I hear doing anal without lube is a no-no for comfort and safety reasons. But you probably already know that right?”

THE FUCK IS THE [SCENE](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7qNfGiEHuUg) ABOUT?!

Julian nods. “Right. Now the scene… It starts on a cold windy night up on a Wyoming mountain and Jack, one of the cowboys, is toasty and warm, sleeping in a tent while the other guy, I can’t remember his name, is outside freezing his balls off because he doesn't want to share the tent. So then Jack wakes up and goes like 'Would you seriously rather die than come inside, asshole'? So the other guy joins him and …”

 

+++

 

The whiskey's gone right through me so I step into the house to use one of the downstairs bathrooms. As I am taking a leak I hear footsteps in the corridor and a moment later the bathroom door swings open before I have a chance to say ‘it’s occupied’.

“Sorry!”

“Isak?” I stop my flow and turn around.

“Lisen let me in.” He averts his gaze.

I am so fucking happy. “You made it!”

“I-” He looks down and his eyes widen, his face goes red and his focus immediately shifts to the ceiling.

I look down too. Oh. Dick on display.

“I’ll use one o-of the b-bathrooms upstairs.” He stutters.

“Yep. Yeah. Okay.”

He stumbles blindly out of the room.

When I’m done I wait for him in one of the reception rooms.

When he joins me these words are out of my mouth before I have a chance to self censor-

“That’s not how I thought you'd meet my dick for the first time!”

He looks stunned.

“His name is Dick by the way.” Why am I still talking? I walk up to him and pull him into a big hug. He smells of citrus and sun lotion. “Sorry. I’m a bit tipsy.”

“Yeah. No. It’s cool. Sorry for walking in on you. And I didn’t really see much anyway.”

His smile is cheeky as fuck.

“Wow.” I feign being hurt. “Ouch.”

He laughs.

“How much bigger do you want it to be?!”

“I don't! What?! I don't care what size it is!”

I cock my head to one side. “Oh yeah?”

His cheeks go even redder. He clears his throat. Exhales. “Why are we talking about your junk? Rewind. Start again. Hello. Sorry I'm late.”

He doesn't expand on why though.

“Hello.”  

“I got your voice message.”

Fuuuuuuuuck.

“Yeah. Sorry about that. Blame Tomas. He had us doing shots of whiskey earlier. Did I say some stupid shit?”

I don’t know why I’m acting clueless because I know exactly what I said.

“You don’t remember?”

“I think I said something about mum’s Italian cheese.”

“Yeah.”

“Thought so.”

“It’s not important if you were drunk.” He seems disappointed but turns to look out of the window at the mass of party people so I can't be sure.

I check out his profile. The fluffiness of his hair where it pokes out of the sides of his baseball cap, the slope of his nose, the pink pop of his cheeks against his smooth golden skin. The freckles on his shoulders partly covered by a light tank top which has some retro hip hop group’s emblem on it.

He bites his upper lip. That bit of it that dips in the centre. The bit begging to be nibbled...

“Was this what the boat party was like?” His lips say.

But I have missed the words and only clocked the movement of his mouth so I say,

“I am sure I meant whatever I said in the message.”

He shrugs. “This is like a rap video.”

“I am so glad you came, Isak.”

“I can imagine you really missed me because literally no one else showed up.” He points through the window and gives me a small smile.

“Yeah but none of them laugh as hard at my jokes as you do!”

“... I have a terrible sense of humour.” He raises an eyebrow.

“So we’re perfectly matched.”

He shrugs.

“The boys organised this behind my back to say thank you for their stay. This isn't what I had in mind when I invited you yesterday.”

“It's kind of cool though.” He concedes. “...  but they missed a couple of things.”

“What's that?”

“A trumpeteer to announce people's arrival.”

“Of course.” I smile.

“Champagne pyramid.”

 

                                

 

“Haha!”

He grins. “And a couple of life size ice sculptures. I always wanted to lick one of those.”  

 

                               

 

+++

 

I find myself in Isak’s orbit whenever the opportunity presents itself... which is often. Eventually I force some distance between us to play host while he kills it at a game of [ _Kubb_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rbr4piuN9HE&t=13s) with some of my mates.

 

               

 

Like the guys on his team, he has taken his top off. It is an assault on my senses. A distraction. I try to ignore him as he throws on-target shot after shot while I try to keep up with a conversation with members of my university lacrosse team.

Erik has managed to pull himself away from chatting up a girl to hang out with us. He nudges me and whispers, “Any more calls from you know who?”

“A couple.”

I catch Isak’s eye and we share smiles.

“Kayak boy has his eyes set on you, bro.” Erik says. “He’d let you fuck him.”

I shake my head. “It’s not like that.”

“Not like what. You don’t find him hot?”

I shrug. “Okay. Fine. It’s not _just_ about that.”

He grins. “It’s always about that. Why don’t people just admit that a decent chunk of liking or loving someone is wanting to have sex with them?”

“There is a difference between a ‘decent chunk’ and ‘one hundred percent’.”

“I am just honest about my feelings! All I'm saying is that if you like him, tell him.”

I look at Isak and picture his reaction if I just came out with… ‘Don't freak out but I really fancy you.’

“It’s not as easy as that. I’ve known him since we were kids. He wouldn't see it coming. I'm like a brother to him. And I think he is seeing some girl in the village.”

“First off, my brother would never look at me the way kayak boy is looking at you! Secondly, someone needs to tell his girl that she's on the way out.”

“Haha!”

Erik goes serious. “But be careful with Iben.”

“Why?”

“She reminds me of this guy my older brother was seeing once.”

“Sven?”

Erik nods and shudders. “After Sven had it up to here with the clinginess and insane behaviour he completely broke things off. Stopped taking his calls. Avoided the places the guy went to. That is when the dude went full crazy. My brother had to get a restraining order on him.”

“Sven is gay?”

“Haven't I ever told you?”

“No.”

“I can hook you up if you want. He's a good looking lad. Works in the city.”

“I'm good.”

“Cool. Let me know if you change your mind though.”

 

+++

 

With early evening upon us a small group of friends has settled by the pool.

I pull my lounger chair up against Isak’s. “Having fun?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you surprised?!”

He leans over and whispers. “A bit! Your posse are actually alright.”

“My boys.”

“Your boys.”

My smile almost splits my face in half. “Did that hurt you to say?”

He grins and pulls his baseball cap down. He whispers, “Julian is kind of odd though.”

I bark a laugh. “Yeah, we all think so.”

“But Ismail seems solid.”

“Yeah.”

“Did I just hear my name mentioned?” Ismail asks as he reaches into his pocket, then pauses. “Hey Isak, you’re chill right?”

Uh Oh.

Isak nods.

“Good.” Ismail takes out a small bag with weed and rolls up a joint while teasing him. “I want to know how you rigged the _kubb_ kit.”

“What do you mean?” Isak takes a gulp out of his beer.

“You didn’t miss a single shot.”

“I missed one.”

“Still!” Ismail looks thoughtful. “It’s probably magnets or something.”

“Magic.” Erik says.

“Voodoo.” Alec nods.

“Mind control.” Emma says.

“Some trickery.” Julian guesses.

“I just hate losing!” Isak says.

“Oh God! No wonder you get on with Even!” Erik groans.

Ismail nods, takes a hit of his joint and passes it to Isak. THE FUCK IS HE DOING?!

“Enjoy.” He gives Isak a wink.

“Thanks.” Isak takes it way too readily.

“Take it easy with that thing.” I warn.

“Um. Okay… _dad_.” Isak takes a light drag then a deep one that fills his lungs. He coughs. Hard.

I give Ismail a death glare as I rub Isak's back. Ismail looks at me innocently. This is Tore’s weed and Tore does not play. It's strong. I can’t return Isak back to his dad tonight high _and_ drunk. FUCK.

“Have you even smoked before?” I ask Isak although I suspect I know the answer already.

Naive lungs.

“Yes.” He necks his beer. “Once.”

I smile because cute.

I take the blunt off him and I take a drag; nice and slow.

Veteran lungs.

“Maybe stick to one vice for tonight? I stopped drinking hours ago.” I show him my glass of water.

He looks at me. “I can handle two at once.”

I can’t help it… “Dick joke.”

He tries not to crack a smile. “You’re not funny!”

“I know I’m not but you find me hilarious so…!” I keep the joint firmly wedged between my lips. “And now I’ll have to babysit this joint before you get too high to do anything with.” Fuck. “I mean, before you are of no use to anyone. You know what I mean. I misspoke.”

Damn.

I pull smoke into my lungs, let it rest there for a moment before blowing out smoke rings in his direction. Perfect circles which frame his face; the focus of my attention. Circles which linger as if they are displaying a work of art before disappearing.

We are close so our chat feels intimate even though we are part of a bigger group.

He looks at his half empty bottle of beer and smiles. “Dad found a bunch of empties in the bin from my birthday. I thought he’d flip out.”

“Let me guess, he was totally chill about it.”

“Yeah. He told me about how he managed to hide a whole keg of beer from grandma and grandpa when he was in high school.”

I grin. “Who did you celebrate your birthday with?”

“My friends.” He drinks some more. The movement makes his abs flex and relax. Not that I am looking. Side note- where has his top gone? “All three of them.”

“Three?”

“Yeah. Eva, Jonas and Mahdi. I don’t have as many friends as you do. I’m not Mr Popular.”

“I am not that popular.”

“Yeah right! All these people hate you!” He grins.  “It honestly doesn’t bother me that I don't have lots of friends. I like the ones I have.”

“You said three friends. Does that mean I don’t make the cut?”

“No. You do. But, like, you’re a different kind of friend.” He says. “You’re in the club. VIP section.”

“Fuck yeah.”

“They did personality tests on us at school this year as part of a careers thing. I’m an introvert apparently which makes sense because I don’t get a buzz from hanging out in large crowds especially for long periods of time with people I don't know.”

“Different people interact differently.”

“Yeah...” He moves his head to the edge of his lounger. I do the same so that we face each, inches away.

“Like,” I take a hit of the joint and exhale away from his face, “You’re so intense. In a good way. I like that.”

“You do?”

“Fuck yes. You take everything in. Nothing gets past you. You’re an observer. But you are also so goofy and funny.”

“I feel like most people don’t get me.”

“Most people are all talk, no substance. They having nothing to actually show for themselves. Fuck them.”

He smiles.

“You are more than skin deep, Isak. Being around you, it feels real.”

He gives me a look like I’m saying something ridiculous or improbable or nonsensical.

“I’m not making sense, am I?” My head is getting fuzzy. Not going to lie.

“You are.” He whispers.

“I find you fascinating.” I say.

The way he looks at me makes my stomach flip and my heart skip.

“Mate, are you going to pass that thing along?” Julian interrupts us.

“Yeah.” I pass him the joint and stand up.

“Where are you going?” Isak looks up.

“I want you to hear something. Wait here.”

He settles back into his chair and continues to drink his beer as if it’s water.

I go to the DJ and make a song request. As soon as the song begins to play I feel it from the pit of my stomach to the tips of my toes. It fills my eardrums and makes me give Isak a dance and a twirl as I walk back towards the pool area.

That is when I realise that I have played myself.

THE WEED HAS FUCKED ME UP.

I flop back into my seat. I swap the trilby on my head with Isak’s baseball cap.

“How do I look?” I give him a silly grin.

“Really good.” He adjusts the trilby on his head.

“Do you know who sings this song?”

“No. But it’s reggae, right? I see what you did there.” Isak bobs his head to the beat. “Tropical weather...”

“Yep.”

“Bob Marley?”

“Yeah! It’s from his album Exodus. He was an introvert too. He hated public speaking but he became the voice of reggae. He made it mainstream. And now we have fucking Sean Paul.”

“I hate Sean Paul.”

“Fucking Sean Paul. But Bob Marley performed in front of thousands and thousands of fans. He would look out at the audience in the dark and he would imagine that their lighters were the lights of a thousand stars.”

Isak looks at me with amused confusion so I say, “Listen to the song because it is everything right now.”

He listens and I watch him, hoping to catch the moment where the penny drops.

“The song’s called _[Waiting In Vain](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8WQVb_nuKvs)_.” I whisper.

I am about as subtle as a sledgehammer.

Thank you, weed.

 

_From the very first time I rest my eyes on you, girl_

_My heart said follow through. But I know now,_

_That I'm way down on your line_

_But the waiting feeling's fine_

 

_I don't want to wait in a vain for your love_

_I don't want to wait in a vain for your love_

_I don't want to wait in a vain for your love_

 

_Cause summer is here_

_And I'm still waiting there_

_Winter is here_

_I'm still waiting there_

 

_I don't want to wait in a vain for your love_

_I don't want to wait in a vain for your love_

 

“Tore likes him.” Isak says.

I guess the penny hasn’t dropped.

“You’d like him too, if you gave him a chance.”

 

+++

 

The party has ended with nightfall. Alec and the girl from the boat, her name is Vilde, are making out by the fire pit round the back of the house. Erik is ‘showing a couple of girls his room’. Ismail and Emma have gone to bed. Tomas is out for the night. And I have left Julian and Isak in the Games room playing video games while I say bye to Lisen.

“Thank you for helping out today.”

“You’re welcome.”

“How much are you going to tell mum and dad about today?”

“An edited version of events.” She gives me a knowing smile. “They won’t mind. There was no drama and the actual house was untouched. I am sure the cleaners will sort out the vomit by the pool tomorrow… and the bit near the gate.”

Not my vomit.

“Have I ever told you that you are my favourite person in the whole world?”

“Once or twice and always when it gets you out of trouble.” She looks reflective. “It was good to see little Isak. Only he is not so little now.” She muses.

“He plans to go to uni next year.”

“Good on him.” She muses. “He’s quite handsome, isn’t he? And he hasn’t gone home yet...”

I smile. “I know what you’re doing, Lisen.”

She mirrors my smile. “I am just saying.”

“He’s a friend.”

“So you don’t like him?”

Ugh.

“That’s what I thought.” She looks smug. “Did you find the condoms by your bed by the way? Your mum told me to get you some.”

I roll my eyes. “I knew it! Tell her I am not a child. I know how to get my own!”

“Have they come in handy yet?”

“Bye, Lisen!”

She laughs, “Okay, I'm off. Bye.”

We hug it out and I turn around to make my way back to the Game’s room when the door shuts.

“Hi.”

I snap my head round to face Isak. How long has he been there? Did he hear us talking about him? When did he put his tank top back on?

“I was on my way to the kitchen.” He looks at the closed front door.

“Lisen’s hilarious.” I say unnecessarily. “Chatting shit.”

“I’m hungry.”

“Yeah. Same. Let’s hit the leftovers. I could eat.”

 

+++

 

“What would you like?” I pick up a plate.

“A bit of everything.” Isak hauls himself up onto the centre island in the kitchen and watches me load his plate up as his feet kick out and his head bops to some tune in his head.

“Are you humming to Bob Marley?”

“That song’s in my head.”

He is so fucking cute but also...

“Are you still drunk?”

He grins but shakes his head. “Maybe a little.”

I pass him the plate and he immediately starts stuffing his mouth with cold barbecue meat stopping to cover it when saying, “I am going to eat this and then I am going to go.”

“There’s plenty of space for you to crash here.”

“I know but I haven’t told dad I’m staying over. He’ll be expecting me to go home.”

“There are these things called phones…!”

“Hahaha.”

“There are no street lights and there are drunk drivers everywhere. It’s too dangerous.”

“We are talking about country roads not a war zone, Even. Plus I have to work at the shop tomorrow.”

I step into the space between his legs and he freezes mid-chew.

I pick a rib off his plate and make a show of biting a chunk of meat off it.

“I didn’t get to eat your meat. Your barbecue meat, I mean.” He goes red. “Yeah, I know. ‘Dick joke’.”

“You’ll have to come back so that you can try it.” I smile. Isak pops the end of a sausage into my mouth. I bite off a piece and chew.

“Will it taste better than this?” He asks.

Damn. Why is he giving me those looks. Sultry like. Does he know that’s what he is doing?

“I’ll try my best.”

I take the plate from him and set it aside. I gently grab his hands, realise he is still holding some sausage, take it and put it down on the plate.

I take his hands in mine and intertwine our fingers. Look up to see his reaction.

 

                                

 

He looks startled; as though my touch has turned him to stone. As if my touch is something completely out of the blue. As if it is as shocking as me kissing him until we are both breathless. As though I have pushed him back onto the surface of the kitchen counter, crawled over him and gone in for a full on make out session.

That was not my intention when I grabbed him. But seeing him point blank as he looks at me has given me an intense urge to kiss him, to make him hunger for my touch. I can’t suppress it.

I press his hands down onto the counter.

“What are you doing?”

“Trapping you.”

“I could free myself no problem if I tried.”

“So try.”

He makes zero effort to get out of my hold. “I don’t feel like fighting you.”

His position on the centre island has levelled our heights so that we're eye to eye.

“Can I confess something to you?” I whisper.

He doesn’t break our gaze. “Yes.”

“I don’t want you to go home tonight.”

He cracks the smallest of smiles.

“Can I confess something else to you?”

He nods.

“I think you look fit in that trilby.”

I interlock our hands.

“I know that’s a lie.”  

“Why?”

“Because you are the only person on the planet that can pull one off without looking like a mafia boss or a prick.”

I laugh. “Thanks.”

“Now can I confess something to you?” He whispers.

“Yes.”

“But like don’t laugh or comment or anything, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Don’t react.”

I smile.  “Spit it out.”

“I think you’re hot. Like just generally.”

My heart flips.

He frees himself from my hold. Grabs the front of my top, near the hem. He pulls me in gently so that my feet and hips hit the edge of the counter. His inner thighs press against my sides and the feeling is divine.

“Can I ask you something?” He looks at his fisted hands. “Do you seriously not remember what you said in your voice message?”

“I remember everything.”

He looks up.

“I just felt like a bit of a dick, saying those things.”

“Because they weren’t how you really felt.”

“No. Because they are exactly how I feel and I was sure it would weird you out.” I feel like my heart has jumped out of my chest and into his hands. “What do you think of that?”

I search his eyes.

“I am really happy.”

I grip his thighs and run my hands up them. “Really?”

“Um hum.”

“Same.”

He leans in. “I could tell you stuff that might weird you out.”

“Like what?”

“I really like your voice.”

“My voice?”

“Yeah. It’s fit. And your mouth when you were blowing those smoke rings...”

Is the loose tongue because he is tipsy? I hope he doesn’t take it back when he’s sober.

“I know what you’re thinking. I’m not drunk.” He murmurs. “Okay. I’m not _that_ drunk. I know what I’m saying. I know that when you’re in Oslo... I miss you. I know that I wish you came to the village more often.”

He presses his lips to mine.

No warning.

No preamble.

Pure surprise attack.

Best surprise ever. His lips are soft yet insistent. Light yet intense until he pulls back.

“God. Sorry.”

His grip on my top is firm.

Sorry is bullshit. I’m not sorry that he kissed me. I am sorry he stopped.

I kiss him back and he immediately breathes into it, sighs and relaxes, gently runs his tongue against mine and deepens our kiss. He pulls me into him. He moans when our kiss deepens. My hat falls off his head because I can’t help but comb my hands through his hair. It lands with a splash into a near empty punch bowl.

“Doesn’t matter.” I murmur when he breaks away from me to watch it float.

Back to our embrace. Back to feeling awesome and complete. I feel like pinching myself or stopping now (because maybe this is the biggest mistake of our lives) or doing even more with him (because this is the greatest moment of our lives). I feel all these feelings at once.

“You are the most delicious thing on this table.”

He murmurs against my lips. “Corny.”

“It's not corny if it’s true.” I kiss him some more.

“What if one of your friends comes in?”

“So what?”

He searches my eyes. “That wouldn’t be a problem?”

I shake my head. “Would it be a problem for you?”

He places his arms over my shoulders and smiles and pulls me in.

“Maybe we could go somewhere a bit more private.” He rubs our noses together and whispers, “It's like we're in a goldfish bowl.”

True. Like many rooms in the house, the kitchen has floor to ceiling glass windows on two sides that can give anyone inside the house a feeling of being easily seen from the outside. But he shouldn't worry. It’s just me and him facing the empty front garden which is enclosed by tall security fences.

I raise an eyebrow at him. Smile. “I thought you were going home.”

“I changed my mind.” He murmurs as he pushes into me and closes his eyes. Slightly purses his lips and it’s cute because he is waiting from me to close the gap and kiss him again.

 

+++

 

**Today...**

This sleepy version of Isak who is cuddled up to me in my bed, looking at me and giving me a sleep-soaked smile isn’t really here. Is he?

You’re here.”

“Yeah.” His smile falters. “Did you think I’d be gone?”

The way he asks that sounds like, _Do you want me gone?_

“No. Awesome.” I stroke his smooth cheek and the barely there fuzz on his chin. He _is_ real. “I love that you're here.”

I coax him closer to me, my finger on his chin. Softly, in case he bolts out of here or disappears into a ball of smoke.

I rub my nose gently against his and he smiles.

“Morning.” I whisper.

“Morn-”

He doesn’t finish the word.  I can't wait a moment longer to kiss him again.

He is so smiley when we come up for air. “This is insane.”

“Yeah.”

He sits up and we both notice that he is without his top. He pulls back the sheets. Underpants are on.  We look at each other and grin.

“What time is it?”

I look over at the wall clock. “Just before 11.”

“Shit!” He looks around. “Where’s my top?”

“You look better without it.”

He rolls his eyes at me so I point at my armchair and flashback to last night when we stumbled into my bedroom and he got hot and heavy with me and then said he felt hot and flung his tank top off and threw it at the chair before pushing me towards the bed.

He jumps out of bed and goes to pick it up. Puts it on. Realises it’s on the wrong way. Puts it on the right way.

“I never told dad I was staying over!”

“I did.”

He stops fussing. “What?”

“He called this morning and asked if you were still here.”

“When?”

“When you were sleeping….”

He sits on the edge of the bed next to me and takes my hand. “What did he say?”

“Nothing. He was glad to hear you were okay and he told me to tell you to answer your phone when he called. He used stronger language than that.”

He groans. “I didn’t hear it ring but at least he knows that I wasn’t at Eva’s.”

“Why would he think you were at her place?”

He looks at me weirdly. “Obviously, because he thinks that there is something going on between us.”

“Is there?”

“No, but I guess we get on and we see each other loads and she’s fit so dad’s made his mind up.” Isak shakes his head. “For example, guess what I found in my cupboard this morning that he gave me as a ‘present’?”

“What?”

“Condoms!” He laughs. “Like, what the fuck! It was so awkward.”

“But you’re not with her?”

“Not yet anyway!”

I can’t tell if he’s joking or not. Either way I am over this Eva chat.

I grab him and roll him over, surprising him, so that he is back on the bed. Back on his back. Back to how he was last night when I was on top and pinning him down and he was staring up at me like he is now and his legs settled either side of me before circling my hips, feet crossed at the base of my spine, while we made out. While his tongue worried that spot just above my collar bone. And he got my knees weak and my dick hard.

I swear this is as good as it gets. Isak with me in or out of bed. The looks he gives me with his green eyes. The banter and back chat. The slide of his skin against mine.

And this kiss. Fuck.

“Wait!” He whispers heatedly.

He stops my hands where they are; trapped under his top.

“Why?”

“Where is my phone?”

“We’ll look for it later.” I whisper and trace my tongue over the bowed shape of his upper lip.

He moans, “Yeah. Okay.”

And we get back to it. We kiss and he runs his hands confidently down my back. It reminds me of when he first touched the telescope; one smooth light touch all the way down. He reaches my bum and squeezes it; pushes me closer to him.

Fuck. He shouldn’t do that while we kiss. He shouldn’t. Doesn’t he get that he drives me wild? That I have the biggest boner and that no flimsy bits of underwear will hide the sensation of its insistent poke against him? He pauses when he feels a jab against his upper leg or bum. He kisses me gently so I kiss him back and it’s sloppy and languid and super sensual. It feels like floating in still water, heat beating down from the sun. I look down and he’s got his own boner situation going on; his blue boxer briefs are straining. So when I kiss him again I figure I’m thinking what he’s thinking. Wild thoughts. Horny thoughts. But we don’t have to rush things because me and him- it’s different- unlike with anyone in my past.

I know it with complete certainty.

Isak’s no hook up.

He’s no fuck buddy.

He is the real deal. Someone I would defend with my heart and soul. Someone I would fight anyone for and keep for the long haul.

I let our foreheads meet, press him down into the bed with the weight of my body. I grind up against him because I can't help it and I'm only human, and our cocks get a taste of friction. He moans. Quivers.

The door bursts open at that moment and Erik marches in.

Isak buries his head into my chest, un-circles his legs from around me. He grips my shoulders hard and pushes me down on him as if trying to hide in plain sight with me as his human shield.

“Fuck’s sake, Erik! Get out!” I hiss. I grab a bit of bed sheet and try to cover us up. Unsuccessfully.

“Morning, Isak!” Erik says merrily. “Mate, you didn’t have your hat on the door handle or whatever. How was I supposed to know? I won’t be a second! Don’t mind me! I've just come for a refill. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

He walks up to the bed, flips open the wooden box on my side table, grabs a few condoms and then looks at me. “Thanks! Have fun.”

He turns on his heel and runs out.

When the door clicks shut, Isak reveals himself, stares at the big open condom box.

I want to say that it isn’t what it looks like, that every condom does not represent a thousand conquests that I am yet to have or a history of thousands that I have already had. I close the box but he still stares at it.

“Fucking Erik.” I mutter.

He turns to face me.

“Mum asked Lisen to buy me those.” I explain.

“Your mum?”

I nod. “I know. I keep telling her I'm a fucking adult.”

He smiles.

“It’s not funny, Isak.”

His lips are wobbling with amusement. “It is though! Can you imagine Lisen going to a grocery store to buy a load of condoms? That’s pretty fucking funny!”

Haha. True.

“I think we need to tell your dad and my mum to back the fuck off with the condom buying thing.” I whisper as I feel his heart flutter hard and fast against mine.

“Agreed.” He whispers back and pulls me down for a kiss.

 

+++

 

We finally get out of bed- that’s hunger for you- and shower. We walk towards the kitchen together and Isak rubs his eyes.

“Tired?” I ask.

He yawns and nods.

“Did someone keep you up?” I beam at him.

He rolls his eyes at me but he’s hiding a smile. He takes my hand and he keeps hold of it until the sound of my friend’s voices in the kitchen hits his ears and he lets go.

It’s Ismail and Tomas.

“They don’t fucking care.” I say. “Honestly.”

“Yeah.” He whispers.

My friends’ conversation filters through to us.

_“... At least he got lucky last night.”_

_“Yeah? With Kayak boy?”_

_“Yep. They haven’t come out of his bedroom yet.”_

_“Yeah boy!”_

_“I know. I get emotional when one of us gets our dick wet!”_

Isak pulls away. “I just realised that I should get going.”

“They’re just playing, Isak. It’s lads talk.” I take his hand. “Come on. Stay.”

I peck his cheek then his forehead.

“I really like you. I’m not playing.”

I kiss him. All heart and passion.

He smiles. “I like you too but I still have to go… I’m supposed to be at the shop helping dad.” He breathes. “... but I’ll see you later. Maybe you can come over?”

“I want you to come over here.”

“Yeah. Okay. Then we can kayak later. We haven't kayaked yet this year.”

"Yeah. That'll be fun." I close the gap between us. Rest my forehead against his; feel his body against mine. “Where did you leave your bike?”

“Locked against a lamp post outside your place.”

“Fuck it. I'll drive you.”

“You don't have to.”

“I want to.”

He grins. “I’ll let myself out. See you later. I promise.”

His peck on my lips is brief but his eyes linger.  When he turns to walk out of my front door, there is an unbearable tug on my heart.  I want to pull him back. I can't watch him leave so I close the door, lean my forehead on it, turn around and press my back against it. I resist the urge to track him with my eyes as he crosses the garden to the front gate. Instead I make my way to the kitchen.

What the fuck have I become?

What has Isak turned me into?

I have never felt like this before.

Fucking ridiculous.

 

+++

 

I walk into the kitchen at greet Ismail and Tomas.

“Morning. Where is everyone?”

“Emma’s asleep.” Ismail stretches out. “Julian is gaming and Erik and Alec are still in their rooms. Probably fucking some girls.”

“Where’s Isak?” Tomas asks.

“I just saw him off.” I grab a clean glass, pour some orange juice and fall into a chair. “You fuckers scared him off.”

“How?”

I look at Tomas and imitate him. “ ‘I get emotional when one of you gets your dick wet’.”

“Ah shit. Did he hear that?”

I nod.

“Well it’s true!” He smiles. “Was the night everything you dreamed of and more?!” 

“I’m not saying shit.”

“You look like a satisfied man.” Ismail nods.

I look out into the garden. Isak must have already gone through the gates. The garden is empty, clean and tidy.

“So the cleaners have been?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yep.” Ismail says. “Bright and early. Bro, we need to talk about Iben.”

“What about her?”

“Did she ring you overnight?”

“No. Why?”

They lift their phones up to show me dozens of missed calls from her to both of them.

What the fuck.

The doorbell for the gate rings and we all jump out of our skins. We look at each other.

Tomas raises an eyebrow. “It’s probably kayak boy back for round two. He’s thought, ‘Fuck, but that dick was good! Why am I cycling away from it!’.”

“Shut up.” I mutter and walk up to the video intercom.

Shit!

I back away.

“What?” Tomas and Ismail say in unison and with panic on their faces.

“FUCK!”

“Iben.” Ismail guesses.

“No way!” Tomas runs up to the intercom and his eyes widen. “Don’t let her in! What is she doing here?”

“I’ve got to let her in. She’s come up from Oslo. She’s not going to just turn around and head home because no one has answered the door bell.”

“True.” Ismail says. “Shit!”

My phone begins to ring. It’s her. I don’t answer. The second it stops, Ismail’s phone starts ringing.

Tomas- “I swear this is like a horror movie and Iben’s the monster!”

I give him a look. “She's  barely 1 metre 50 tall.”

“She scares me.”

“I’m letting her in.”

“Okay.” Ismail says. “Give us a shout if you need though. We’ll be in the Games room.”

I scoff. “I'm pretty sure I can handle her.”

 

+++

 

I walk out as Iben parks her car on the property. She doesn’t look like she could hurt a fly and yet I feel so fucking nervous. Why has she come all the way out to the village? Without invitation and without having gotten my address from me or the boys.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” She flings herself at me.

She feels so fragile in my arms so I give her a big hug back. “Okay?”

She nods but doesn’t let go.

“Why are you here, Iben?” I ask as gently as I can.

She looks around us. “Why did you lie about not having a party yesterday?”

“I didn’t know about it when I spoke with you. The boys surprised me. Come on. Let’s go in.”

I lead her to one of the reception rooms around the back of the house. I like this one because one whole side wall is a window that slides open to give the room an indoor/outdoor feel. It stitches seamlessly with the back garden that leads to the steep hill which looks over the rest of the village and fjord.

It is just outside of this room that I drunk dialled Isak yesterday. When we were much younger the two of us would run through to the outside from this room to spot his dad’s kayak shop; a wooden speck in the distance that we would cover with our thumbs or pretend to magnify by looking through binocular hands.

 

                    

 

I press a button that slides the wall window open as Iben takes a seat on a sofa. I perch on the armrest of an armchair. At arm’s length.

“This place is huge.” Iben looks around us.

“How’s the coffee shop?” I may as well start with small talk about our shared part-time job back in Oslo. I have a feeling things might get heated soon enough.

“Yeah. Busy. Summer. You know. I've only done a few shifts. Some of the regulars asked after you.”

“Nice.”

“They miss you like I do.”

The saying, ‘don’t shit in your own backyard’ comes to mind when it comes to Iben and me.

We started out as colleagues at a coffee shop and quickly became friends. And then one day after work, months ago now, she came onto me. She wasn’t looking for anything serious. She told me about how she had recently broken up with someone. But she found me ‘cute’. And I liked her. Plus she was hot but I couldn’t see her as girlfriend material. Not because she wasn't a nice enough person but because _I_ didn’t feel that spark.  

So the arrangement suited me. Going casual. Being friends with a sprinkle of benefits. And it was what it was. And we did what we did. For months when the mood took us.

Until people started to talk. Started to say things like,

‘ _Iben says that the two of you might come camping with us next weekend’_ or

‘ _Your girlfriend’s fit, mate’._

Even the boys, who knew the score, teased me about it,

‘ _Trust Even to get a girlfriend without even trying or meaning to!’_

That is when I thought, ‘what the fuck is happening?!’

Iben told me she couldn’t understand it either because as far as she was concerned we were still just friends with benefits. But her behaviour changed. Subtly at first. Not enough for me to notice. As time went on she asked for more of my time, more of my affection. She displayed jealousy toward customers, friends and acquaintances when I was ‘over-friendly’ with them. Because I smiled. Because I cracked a joke. Because I gave them a little bit of my time. That was when the penny dropped.

I had shit in my backyard. I had unintentionally fucked up our friendship. So I told her it was best that we stopped with the ‘benefits’ part of ‘friends with benefits’. And she seemed cool with that. But then she started calling me at all times and for all sorts of reasons. She would constantly seek me out and try to hang out with me.

Emma is right. I have a track record for fucking up friendships when they turn from platonic to ‘something else’.

First Mikki then Iben.

I can't help but have moment of anxiety about what will happen between Isak and me. Ours is a friendship that I don't want to lose. Ever. But I can't help how I feel for him. I believe that we can have so much more than the bond we have shared so far. Something so much deeper and built on strong foundation.

“I don't get why your friends didn't invite me yesterday.” Iben says.

I take a deep breath. “They didn't invite a lot of people.”

“Why don’t you answer my calls?”

 _Count to ten. Do not blow up._ “I can’t answer every one of your calls. You’ve been ringing me practically non-stop.”

“You weren't picking up. What was I supposed to do? That’s why I came here.”

I grip my hands together to control my frustration. “That’s not normal, Iben.”

“I wouldn’t have to do it if you got back to me.” She is getting upset. Her eyes are glistening up. Her mouth is thinning. Her forehead is furrowed.

I feel like a shit. “We’re mates, aren’t we?”

“That’s what I thought but then you treat me like this.” She tears up. “Like someone you can use and then throw aside when you're done.”

She wipes her eyes and shakes her head.

“Do you honestly think that's what I'm doing?”

“We had sex and now you’re blanking me.”

“I am not blanking you. I'm treating you like I always have and I want us to be friends. I like you but now I think that you think there is something more going on between us. People are saying that you’ve been implying we are an item when we’re not.”

“What makes us so different to a proper couple?  We hang out. We get along really well. We sleep together.”

Not for a couple of months and… “Couples agree to be couples. It can't just happen because one of us says so. You can’t change the rules and not tell me.”

“But I like you and you like me! Don’t you?!”

“Yes but-”

I frog-kneel in front of her as she sits on the sofa. I don't know how to be any clearer than I have been so far. Maybe it bears repeating. No bullshit.

“-I’m not into you like that. And I thought you weren’t into me like that either. I’m sorry if you feel differently now. And I am sorry I didn’t notice sooner.” I say. “I didn't mean to lead you on. I tried to be as honest with you as I could be. I just want us to be friends. That hasn’t changed.”

She bursts into tears and I feel like the shittiest guy on the planet.

She pushes me away and storms out into the back garden. I follow her but she has stopped already. She turns to face me and her sorrow makes my heart ache.

“I don't want us to fight.” I say helplessly. “I don't want you to be upset.”

She silently pulls me into a hug and she continues to bawl. I don’t know what to say so I say nothing at all. I let her ride out her tears. I hold her, gently sway her, until her shaking and heaving stops. Her face is waterlogged, her cheeks stained with tears. She hiccups.

I wipe her tears.

“I think you are awesome. People really like you. I really like you.”

Her expression tells me that she doesn't believe me. “Is there someone else?”

Fuck. What?

“Huh?”

She sniffles. “Eskild said that there was a guy you were hanging out with all day yesterday. You looked really close.”

“Eskild?” My mouth feels dry. “Eskild wasn't here yesterday.”

“But someone he knows was.”

Eskild and his fucking connections.

Telling Iben about Isak feels wrong. It feels like, by saying something about him, I would cause her more pain and make this already awkward situation, worse. So I play with the truth and tell a white lie.

“That guy, he's just a friend. A kid from the village that I've known my whole life.” I give her a reassuring smile. “He's a friend.” I repeat. “In fact you just missed him. He crashed over last night and he just left-”

I am shocked when she presses her lips to mine. No warning. No preamble. Pure surprise attack.

Worst surprise ever. Her lips are soft yet insistent. Light yet intense.

I pull back. Push away from her. Untangle myself from her insistent hands.

There is a clang. The sound of something falling and hitting the floor. I look around. The acoustics of the property mean that the sound could have come from half a dozen places in or around the house.

“What's that sound?” She asks.

“Probably one of the lads.” I look back at her. “What was that?”

I am talking about the kiss. Is she kidding right now? Has she missed the part where I said I didn't want anything romantic with her?

“I thought…” she looks at me hopefully.

And that's where I snap. Where I raise my voice and blunt my words.

‘ _How many times do you need me to tell you that I don't want to be with you?!’_

_‘I can't be friends with someone who can't get it in their head that I'm not interested!’_

I become someone I am not proud of. She bites back with equally cutting words. She shouts and gets physically violent. She bites, slaps and punches. Rational conversation becomes impossible.

The boys rush to the rescue. They force me to walk away from her as she continues to rage and explode in anger.

Ismail is the one to call it.

“If we get anywhere near her, if we touch her to try to calm her down, it won't end well. Six guys. One girl. It won't look good. I'm calling the police, dude. Let them handle it.”

 

+++

 

I am in my room lying on my bed having finished speaking to dad on the phone. I rest my phone on my chest and stare at the ceiling.

“When did this day turn to shit?” I say to myself.

I remember Isak last night, tired and by my side.

‘ _Mystery solved_.’ I whispered as I stroked his hair.

His eyes opened and closed as they battled between sleep and wake. ' _Hm_?’

 _‘I wondered whether you slept with a cap on._ ’ I murmured in his ear.

He burrowed his face into the crook of my neck. _‘No. Hdgjjkggdg.'_

I smiled. _‘Those weren't actual words.’_

 _‘You smell nice.’_ Those were his final words before falling asleep wrapped in my arms.

I sit up and ring him.

His phone rings and rings and rings. This is the second time I've rang him without an answer since the Iben fiasco. Business must be booming at the shop.

I get a knock on the bedroom door. It's Ismail.

“Hi. What did your dad have to say?”

“He’s upset that I haven't press charges.”

“Same.” He says. “But the police officer said that you can always change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

“Mate, you can't justify her behaviour. I know you feel guilty about what’s happened but people hook up all the time. It's not your fault that she built a fantasy in her head that made it more than it was. You should speak to Erik. His brother’s got a restraining order on his ex.”

“Yeah. He said.”

 

+++

 

**_The next day..._ **

 

Am I being Iben?

I feel like it slightly as I drive over to Isak’s place first and the kayak shop next.

I called him again this morning and this time it went straight to voicemail. I got worried. It’s not like him to not answer my calls. And he didn’t come over last night as planned.

I enter the shop and for a second it looks like there are lots of customers and no staff.

Martin walks in from the storeroom a moment later, with his hands full of folded new tee-shirts. I raise a hand to him but his face is tense. Why have I got a sudden feeling of foreboding?

“Hi, Even. Give me a minute.”

He clears the queue for the till then marches up to me to stack some shelves. I help him and say,

"Shop's busy."

"Summer time." He says. “How was your barbecue?”

“Yeah. Good. Good.” I can't look at him. I feel like he’ll see what his son and me got up to through my eyes. “Actually it ended up being a pool party. I had friends over from Oslo."

"I see."

"Sorry that we didn’t tell you about Isak staying over.”

“That’s okay.”

He stops his re-stocking, punches the top of a pile of tops and bores holes into me with his eyes. I see where Isak gets the intensity of his stare from. He is about to say something but then notices my left arm.

“What happened there?”

I touch the bandage hiding the clean laceration caused by Iben’s ring. “It’s nothing. Dressings always make injuries look worse than they are.”

He inhales sharply by way of a yes. “There's a metaphor for life somewhere in there. Anyway, I presume you're looking for Isak?”

I nod.

“Did something happen between you?” He asks.

That’s such a loaded question. “Like?”

“When I called you yesterday I got the impression things were going well with you and my son.”

“We have always got on.” I say. My mouth feels really dry when I confess, “I really like him.”

Why does this feel like the suspense part in a movie, where you know that something bad is about to happen but you don’t know why or how or what it is?

“I know, Even.” Martin nods. “I know. I have seen it with my own eyes. And I think my son really cares for you too but he wasn't happy when he got home yesterday.”

"Why?"

"I thought you might know."

"No." I shake my head but then I think back to Tomas' crass words yesterday that Isak overheard. I wonder whether that has something to do with it. Maybe Isak thinks that I am playing him. Maybe he thinks that I am just looking to get another notch on my bed post.

His dad sighs.

"Is he here?" I ask. "We were going to hang out after he finished work yesterday but he didn’t show up.”

I can explain. I can tell him that sometimes my friends are assholes and that sometimes I'm an asshole but that there was no intention to hurt or offend or degrade him. And that Tomas and Ismail would feel shit if they knew how upset they had made him.

“So he didn't tell you. He told me he would.”

“Tell me what?”

“Isak didn't come to work yesterday. He is in Oslo visiting his mother. He came here yesterday but only stayed a few minutes before going to Eva’s. He then passed by the house again early this morning to pack before leaving on a morning bus to the capital.”


	11. The One With The 16th Birthday, The 'Straight' Experiment, Heartbreak, and A Trip to Oslo To See Mum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Binocular hands and Yummy Chris Pratt

**Last Summer- Isak**

 

“I’ll let myself out.” I say to Even as we stand in the entrance hall by his front door. “See you later. I promise.”

Then I kiss him (!) and I have to use all the willpower I have inside me to step outside, into the garden, and close the door behind me.

I lean against it. I’m smiling like an idiot. I have to pause. Take a moment. Breathe. Because...

EVEN AND I KISSED! WE HOOKED UP! I stayed over at his place! In his bed!!!

Like WHAT?! What the actual FUCK??!!! How did things go from me deciding against going to his barbecue (to avoid him and his obnoxious friends), to me listening to his weirdly sweet but drunken voice message, coming to his awesome party and then... _US HOOKING UP_!!??

As cheesy as it sounds I am so happy. I feel pure joy. I feel like my heart is about to burst. Honestly, I am a bit delirious, like I am running a fever. I feel hot all over. I can’t help but rewind and think back to what happened yesterday and this morning. How Even seemed to pay me special attention at the party; like he cared _extra_ for me. He introduced me to friends, pulled me into conversations with them, included me, then pulled me away from them to have our own one-on-ones.

I remember his every look and touch. How he made me melt and my skin tingle. I feel a ripple run through me at the thought of his kisses; especially the heated ones that took my breath away. I loved how he pressed me into his bed, whispered into my ear and held me close. How through it all he was still the Even I have always known... with his _bwinks_ and terrible jokes that tickle my funny bone; so bad they’re good.

I loved how when we were wrapped up in intimacy, he made me feel completely comfortable with something so unfamiliar. Maybe I felt at ease because he acted as though what was happening between us was the most obvious, natural and expected thing in the world. Like us hooking up was meant to be. He was confident without being cocky. He didn’t care that his friends might catch us- so different from me. And when we went to his bedroom he didn’t rush or pressure me or make me feel how I actually felt; naive and inexperienced. Did he know that he was opening me up to first experiences? If he did he didn’t show it and I must have done something right because...

He was turned on! By me! God!! I bury my face in my hands as I remember the feeling of him rubbing himself against me… how hard he was... before Erik walked in and interrupted us. Fucking Erik!

I want us to do that again. The rubbing and kissing and petting and spooning and... I want us to do more than that. STUFF. ALL the STUFF. ALL the STUFF ALL The TIME!!!

Okay. Actually what I need to do is get a grip.  Calm the fuck down before I explode from all these emotions. What I need to do is stop leaning against his front door like some idiot.

I start crossing the garden towards the main gate. To be honest I could do without seeing his dicks-for-brains friends right now.

_“... At least he got lucky last night.”_

_“Yeah? With Kayak boy?”_

_“Yep. They haven’t come out of his bedroom yet.”_

_“Yeah boy!”_

_“I know. I get emotional when one of us gets our dick wet!”_

Kayak boy. Is that their nickname for me? I overheard them… and Even sort of defended them and their ‘Lads talk’. That’s what he called it and I guess he’s right. I get that in the comfort and presence of friends shit gets said that would never be dared spoken in public. I get that. I am not one of those super-sensitive, ‘triggers everywhere’ types.

For example, people at school aka some of the guys on my football team (dickheads) have been calling me ‘gay boy’ for years ever since a rumour circulated about me. I hate that their ‘joking’ and ‘teasing’ comes so close to a truth that I haven't been ready to admit to and that I’ve been desperately trying to hide. I shake off their ‘banter’ even though their words sometimes sting.  I rise above it. Deny it. And until relatively recently I have ignored the truth behind their words, even to myself. But I can’t ignore it now. Not after my thoughts and feelings have finally played out into action with Even.

Even who, unlike his friends, isn’t a dickhead. Even, who’s hot and funny and kind and generous and caring and cool and attentive…

And who has just told me,

“I really like you. I’m not playing.”

!!!

!!!!!!!!

!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have to call Eva! She’s the only one of my friends and family who knows about me- no one else. She’ll freak out!

 

+++

 

**The Summer Before** **_Last Summer_ ** **\- Isak**

 

“It’s a trip to the movies!” I act as if I am surprised when Eva and I get off the public bus right outside the cinema.

It’s a bit of a trek to get here.  We have had to take two buses to travel two towns along.

“Bingo!” She links our arms and pulls me towards the back of a small queue for tickets and popcorn.

“What are we seeing?”

“Guess.”

“ _Guardians_?”

“Yes.” She smiles.

“Awesome!”

“I know! Chris Pratt got really fit for it. He's so hot now.” She stares at me. “Don't you think? Have you seen him in the trailer?!”

I act like I have no idea what she means even though the movie trailer had me tracking the actor’s every move with wide hungry eyes.

              

“Dunno. Hadn't noticed.”

“Yeah. He's definitely hot. Anyway...” She hugs me. “Happy 16th birthday!”

“Thanks.” My voice is muffled by my face being squashed into her shoulder by the power of her hug. “Thanks for the present.”

“Sorry it’s over a month late. If you like it though, next year I’ll get you cinema tickets again... and another cool surprise.”

“Yeah Cool.”

Eva is shit with surprises and she can’t do a decent poker face so even without telling me I had guessed that today she was bringing me to the cinema. And I am pretty sure that next year the ‘cool surprise’ will be something like a t-shirt or tank top because her older brother works in a shop that sells really cool vintage and one-of-a-kind tops.

Normally the two of us hang out as a foursome with Jonas and Mahdi but Eva has barred them from coming today because she said that this is a special occasion. Just me and her.

So I have decided that this is a perfect opportunity to put something to the test. To perform a bit of research.

 _The hypothesis_ : I am not gay.

 _The evidence in favour of my hypothesis_ : 1) At parties I have kissed a few girls and copped a feel of one or two boobs. 2) I dated a girl called Sarah for a few months earlier this year. 3) I HAVE NEVER DONE ANYTHING WITH A GUY. EVER.

 _The evidence against my hypothesis:_ 1) I dumped Sarah a couple of months ago because we had zero chemistry and because she wanted us to ‘do it’. The mere thought freaked me out and turned me off. 2) The night I dumped Sarah I went online and started chatting with a dude and it got real sexual, real quick and then I remembered that I was fifteen and that it was probably illegal or something and it felt intense because he wanted my location but I was at home and dad was too and the dude was probably closer to dad’s age or a weirdo paedo or someone I knew from the village so I freaked out and logged off and deleted my search history. 3) There is a gay porn site that I have dipped into accidentally/on purpose a few times and I have jerked off to a scene. Two scenes…

 _The method:_ Kissing Eva during the film.

 _The outcome measures_ : Outcome 1- Feeling turned on. Outcome 2- Getting a boner. Outcome 3- Wanting to ‘take things further’. One or more of these outcomes will prove that I am not gay.

 _The reason for the research:_  To prove my body and mind (and those asshole year 3 guys in my football team) wrong. No, body, I don’t just respond physically to boys. No, mind, I don’t just think sexual/sensual thoughts about boys. No, penetrator Chris and William, teasing me about loving to suck dicks is childish stupid humour with no truth behind it.

I kiss Eva in the middle of the prison break scene of [Guardians Of The Galaxy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7U8uoh3pAoc).

 _The result_ : I do not feel turned on. I do not get a boner. I do not want to take things further.

She pulls back and looks stunned so I apologise. “Sorry.”

I feel stupid, awkward and inadequate.

“It’s okay.” Her smile wreaks of pity. “It’s just I still had some popcorn in my mouth.”

“Oh.”

“But also, I don’t get why you are trying it on with me.”

“I want to.”

“But we’re friends.”

“So? Friends can become more.”

“Yeah. True.” She frowns. “But, um… but aren’t you… you know...” And I feel panicked because she is about to say the word ‘gay’.

“No.” I whisper and turn back to the film so she doesn’t finish the sentence.

She takes my hand and nods, “I was going to say, aren’t you awesome? Because I think you are, you know. And you can be gay and awesome.”

Fuck. She said it so I have to deny it.

“I’m not gay.”

She strokes my cheek then dips into my popcorn bag and whispers,

“Yeah sure. Okay.”

 

+

 

**_One week later..._ **

 

“Why did you say I was gay last week?” I whisper to her when Mahdi and Jonas go to buy ice creams for the four of us. “Because I’m not by the way.”

“Remember when Even was here?”

“It was only last month so yeah. And?”

I try to sound disinterested but my heart is thumping out of my chest. My mouth feels like it’s full of dry cotton balls.

This summer Even came with two friends. Even so, he and I spent almost every day together. Kayaked loads. Hung out. Spoke a tonne. I even told him about how my astronomy hobby had become a bit of an obsession and he didn't laugh at me or look bored. He actually seemed fascinated which was cool. Jonas and Mahdi just roll their eyes at me like ‘oh here we go again!’ What I didn't tell Even is that I am starting to save up for a high resolution telescope now that dad has agreed that I can help him out more regularly at the shop. It'll take me years to afford but it'll be totally worth it.

“I don’t know, it just seemed like you had a crush on him.”

“Who?”

“Even!”

I scrunch my face up to say, ‘as if’!

“Not that I blame you! He's a hot, older boy who happens to be super sweet.”

“What?”

“Yeah. You were so cute with him.”

“That’s stupid because I don’t have a crush on him. He’s just a mate.”

She rubs my arm soothingly. “Yeah sure. Okay.”

 

+

 

**_One day later..._ **

 

“Yesterday when we were getting ice cream, why did you say I fancied Even?” I ask Eva while we walk our dogs around the neighbourhood.

“I guess it was the way you hung onto every word he said. The way you looked at him. Like remember when he came round to the shop to say bye to you.”

I swallow hard. It was horrible. It felt like saying goodbye to him forever. It felt like the end of the world.

“What about it?”

“You looked really cut up about it.”

“I wasn’t.”

She smiles gently. “Yeah sure. Okay.”

 

+

 

**_That night..._ **

My mind is going faster than the rotations of my legs as I peddle to Eva’s place on my bike.  I get there and rush off the bike before it has even ground to a stop.

The minute she opens the door I blurt out,

“Earlier when I said I wasn’t cut up. I lied.” I am breathless. “I am. About Even. I am sorry I lied.”

“That’s okay.”

“Not just about Even going…” I take a deep breath and take a leap of faith that Eva, one of my closest friends in the world, won’t hate me or leave me for what I’m about to say.

“I think I’m gay.”

 

+++

 

**Last Summer- Isak**

 

I have to call Eva! She’s the only one of my friends and family who knows about me- no one else. She’ll freak out!

I reach into my pocket as I head across the garden towards the main gate of Even’s house. Fuck it, I’m going to go to her place instead of the shop. It’s not like dad is actually expecting me. He told me to take time off to enjoy my summer.

I feel my pocket again. My phone’s not there.

I stop.

Turn around.

Where did I leave it? Where did I last see it? Somewhere out here in the garden for sure because I didn’t have it by the time I got into the house last night. But the garden’s been cleaned up. Fuck. What if it’s been cleared up with the rubbish?

I retrace my steps. I definitely had it when I arrived yesterday and when I met Even in the house. I left it to one side while I played Kubb, had something to eat and swam in the pool but I definitely picked it up after. I checked it in the evening, when we were all hanging out by the pool, because Eva sent me three texts in a row.

 

+

 

**_Yesterday..._ **

 

_So I guess the fact that you_

_haven’t texted me means that_

_things are going well after your_

_meltdown this morning!_

 

_I can’t believe you nearly didn’t_

_go! What did Even say about the_

_voicemail he left?_

 

_Have you boned yet?_

 

_No. We’re not boning. Ever._

 

I slip my phone onto the ground by my chair when I spot Even walking/dancing back towards me from the DJ booth. He swaps our hats so that I've got his trilby on and he's wearing my baseball cap. I don't think I have ever seen him wearing a baseball cap before. He looks so fucking hot in it.

“How do I look?” He asks.

Like a moron with no vocal filter (because I'm a bit drunk) I say, “Really good.”

I mentally punch myself. He smiles and leans out of his lounger chair towards me, face practically against mine. He is playing me a song. Bob Marley.

“It's called Waiting in Vain.” He says before going quiet and staring the fuck out of me.

I feel so embarrassed as I listen to the lyrics because I am sure that the song is a joke. Even’s way of poking fun at me. Only this time it’s not funny. He’s laughing at the fact that I like him. Obviously. A lot. He is teasing me about how I follow him around, look up to him- have done since day 1. I _have_ been his ‘puppet on a string’, ‘waiting in vain for his love’.

And this stupid booze is making me read more into his feelings for me than I should. It’s revealing the huge crush that I have had on him for as long as I have felt sexual longing. But I can play dumb. Act like I don't see that I am the punchline of his joke.

“Tore likes him.” I say.  
  
He frowns. “You’d like him too, if you gave him a chance.”

I shrug. “I prefer old school hip hop.”

“I know. So badass.” He gives me a glancing smile.

“Yep.”

“Hey. Remember how we would go round the back of the house to spot your dad’s shop?”

I can't help smiling. “With binocular hands.”

“Wanna do that now?”

He doesn't wait for my reply and stands up. Of course I follow him. Grab my phone. Slip it into my back pocket. Go round to the back of the house with him even though I know that it will be too dark to see the detail of the village below and that all we’ll be doing is standing side by side looking out at nothing.

When we get there we find that the fire pit, which is the central focus of the back garden, has become a lover’s nest with a pair of couples necking and petting on the deck chairs surrounding it, illuminated by the warm orange-yellow glow of its flames.

Even and I stand nearby trying to ignore the action. I strain my eyes to make out the fjord in the distance.

 _“_ Yeah.” Even sighs. “We can’t see shit.”

He does binocular hands.

“Any better?” I ask.

“Nope.”

We smile at each other over our inside joke until his smile drops and he softly says,

“It was a stupid idea, anyway. I just wanted to get you alone.”

“Why?”

“To hang out I guess.”

“Cool.” I sit down on the grass, lie down and feel its coolness against my back as I look up at the sky.

He lies down next me and stares up with a wide smile on his face. “Have I told you that since last summer I have done some research?”

My ears prick up.

“I know you like research.” He says.

"Yep." I nod. “What on?”

“Constellations mostly. I don’t mean to brag or anything but now I can point out Orion...”

                           

                           

 

I smile. Orion is probably the easiest constellation to spot in the sky- nothing to brag about- but my heart squeezes because he is cute as hell.

“... and I can name the stars that make up his belt.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. Okay. Maybe he actually has done some research. “Oh yeah?”

He nods. “Be prepared to be bowled over by my knowledge, Mr Valtersen.”

“I’m ready.”

He points upwards. “It’s over there. That asterism of three bright stars arranged in a row but at an angle, like a forward slash. Are you impressed with the fact that I used the word asterism?”

“I am.”

“Good. From left to right the stars are called Alnitak, Alnilam and Mintaka.”

“You actually looked that up.”

“Yes. I know my shit. Well actually that is all I know.”

I shuffle up closer to him on the grass and nestle up to his side. He looks at me curiously so I say,

“It’s getting a little cold.”

“We could go indoors.”

"No. Not yet. This is cool."

 

+

 

That’s it! My phone must have slipped out of my pocket when we got up from the grass to go indoors last night.

I run to the back garden, to the spot where we were last night but my phone isn’t there. And it isn’t anywhere else in that area from what I can see. Not the sitting area at the far end of the garden. Not around the ‘fire pit’ at the near end of it.

                          

God. This is embarrassing. I am going to have to ring the doorbell and get Even to help me look for it. Give me strength because I’ll probably take one look at him and decide to stay all day and night with him. I have no control.

As soon as I round the corner to get to the front of the house, I see the automatic main gates slide open. I duck back and dip my head so that I can see who it is. A baby blue convertible mini cooper drives into the grounds as Even walks out towards it from the house.

 

                          

 

A young woman steps out. She is wearing a short summer dress that lifts up when she throws herself into Even's arms. He hugs her back so fucking tight that I feel it like a vice around my heart. She is dark haired. Unlike me. Pretty. Unlike me. Slick. Refined. Total opposite to me. Her hair is in a neat ponytail without a single strand out of place. How different to mine.

When Even finally lets her go I realise that I have been holding a breath. I exhale. Slowly.

_Be calm. Isak. Be rational._

Rationally, she is probably just a friend of his.

He takes her into the house. I don’t know what to do. Curiosity is telling me to stay. Self preservation is warning me to go. My indecision makes my mind up for me. I hear their muffled voices coming from one of the reception rooms that looks out into the back garden. Even could spot me if he took a proper look outside so I run to the fire pit, the shortest distance to run to shelter, and crouch behind it. If I tried I could back away, while laying low and round the corner to get to the front of the house without getting noticed. But I can’t move. My heart is thumping but not from the short run. I can’t shake the uneasy feeling that has come over me since seeing them in each other’s arms. Any innocent theories that might explain who this girl is seem less likely than the possibility that she is his girlfriend and has come to see him.

But I cling onto hope because Even would never be the kind of human being who would fuck around behind someone’s back. Who would cheat with someone who he claims to really want, giving that person false hope of a future together. He would never do that to me and this girl.

She storms out into the garden from the reception room and I nearly fall back onto a stack of unused firewood piled up behind me out of panic that I might get caught. Even follows her out so I crouch lower still and stare at them.

“I don't want us to fight, Iben. I don't want you to be upset.” He says to her. Pleading.

She hugs him and he wipes her tears. They’ve had an argument.

“I think you are awesome. People really like you. I really like you.”

“Is there someone else?” She says through her sobs.

My heart is in my mouth. My chest aches and hope fades.

“Huh?”

“Eskild said that there was a guy you were hanging out with all day yesterday. You looked really close.”

“Eskild wasn't here yesterday.”

“But someone he knows was.”

This is the moment where Even will say something like, ‘Oh yeah. That’s Isak. We have known each other since we were little and I’ve fallen for him. We hooked up yesterday and I hope he wants it to be something more because I know I do.’

He doesn’t say that. Instead he says, “That guy, he's just a friend. A kid from the village that I've known my whole life. He's a friend.” He repeats. “In fact you just missed him. He crashed over last night and he just left-”

She presses her lips to his and that is when my heart breaks. Even has unknowingly shown me his true colours. The cheating, lying, manipulative and entitled guy that he really is. I can’t stay here any longer. I need to get gone.

I slowly crawl away, like a dirty stop out taking a walk of shame until I have rounded the corner. Then I stand up and sprint towards the gate, toppling a chair over in the process in my clumsiness.

 

+++

 

Before coming to Oslo all I did was send mum two texts:

 

_Coming to Oslo._

  

 _It's Isak_ _btw_  

 

I am a terrible son. I don’t return any of her concerned replies.

 

_Is everything okay?_

 

_Why have you got your_

_dad's phone?_

 

_Is your dad okay, Isak?_

 

_Are you okay?_

 

_Isak answer my calls please._

 

+

 

Mum sits next to me at her kitchen table and pets my hair. Soothing me and my stupid pathetic tears.

On the wall near the clock are small Polaroids of our family. They were all taken the same day, a few years back, by mum when we went on a family adventure trek around the fjords a couple of hours away from home. 

Me, at a shop before the trip getting sweets and supplies...

 

                           

 

Tiny, just after mum stopped her from trying to kill a small animal...

                           

 

and dad, trying to do a serious pose on mum's instruction but failing because I was pulling silly faces off camera.

 

                           

 

That's odd. Why has she got dad's picture up? Not that I have time to think about that because I am a fucking mess. Once mum let me into her apartment I put my bag down and then spilled everything to her.

EVERYTHING. Even. Me and him. What we did. My sexuality. The girl, Iben. I even threw in the fact that my phone was lost and that I got that five in physics for good measure.

And now I am crying. Over something so stupid. Because I do realise that it is stupid to cry over Even.

I am making a big deal out of the fact that some boy who clearly doesn't really care about me, hooked up with me and didn't tell me he had a girlfriend. I am being pathetic for making it matter but mum is being pretty fucking awesome. She isn’t judging my _extra_ behaviour. She pulls me into a silent hug and gives me butterfly kisses. They feel like a thousand flutters against my temples and remind me of when I would get hurt as a kid and dad would clean my scrapes and then she would put a plaster on them and kiss them a thousand times. And that makes me upset too because it sucks that my parents have split up. Once upon a time they were happy together even though they were so different. Different but similar. The girl from the city with the boy from the country.

“Have you told your dad?” Mum whispers eventually.

“No.” I mumble.

“He would want to know. He loves you so much.” She hugs me more firmly. More butterfly kisses. “He wouldn’t care. And I know he's a silent type but he thinks you are incredible, Isak. He used to tell me that he couldn’t believe that we made someone like you. Someone so perfect.”

“I don’t want him to know, mum.” I bury my head in her neck. “Not yet.”

“Okay.” I hear her inhale and whisper. “God, I missed you. I am so glad you came.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the comments and kudos, guys. I appreciate each and every one. Also, I'm not even into astronomy and I know jack shit about it. I'm not sure why I picked it as Isak's interest. I think the sky looked nice one night...sigh. So... google and wikipedia have been my friends...! Sorry to the astro-heads if there are any glaring errors.


	12. The One With Last Year's Winter, Calendars, Bikes, Friendzones and Anti-Anxiety Medication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit of a messy looooooooooooooong Chapter. The time hopping is deliberate... to reflect the mood of the characters (he says...)! I've put dates to make it clearer?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #GoogleAndWikipediaResearch

**This Summer- Even- 17th June **

 

My perfect dream has turned into my worst nightmare. Out of the blue. No warning shot. Isak, the guy I have been thinking about for the last year, who I’ve just hooked up with again, thinks I am scum of the Earth.

It all goes south when, mid-make out, I make the mistake of trying to get answers to what happened between us last summer. To understand why he ghosted me afterwards.

He gets angry and mentions Iben’s name.

“And where did **_Iben_ ** fit in, huh?!”

Her name is like an explosion through my eardrums. IBEN. _IBEN_ . **_IBEN_ **. Ricocheting across my brain, hitting my skull bones and bouncing backwards and forwards over and over again. Creating a wall of buzz. A roar that eclipses everything else he says.

Isak’s literally shaking with anger, his face red and filled with tension. Pushed up against mine, but his voice is distant. Coming to me from the other end of a tunnel. It feels like we're miles apart and getting further apart. Emotionally and physically because he pushes me off him and slides away from me on the bed. His eyes cloud over, losing the openness that was in them just seconds ago when he lay willingly under me and I teased his skin with my lips.

Whatever he’s thinking, whatever he has concluded about Iben and me, he’s got it all wrong.

"No I didn't." I manage to force out when he calls me a liar, accusing me of leading him on and playing them both.

Feeble words but I can’t seem to use my mouth to say more. Iben is my Achilles heel. I feel floored. KO’d. Incapacitated by her and the overwhelming reaction that takes over my body when I think about her. The mere mention of her name does this to me, brings me to my knees.

"Stop lying! I heard you!"

Heard me say what? I think back to when he may have overheard me say something that he got twisted. My thoughts immediately take me back to last summer. To our encounters. He wasn’t angry with me then. Quite the opposite. When we said goodbye, the day after the party, it was with the promise of seeing each other again. Soon. It felt like a new beginning and we were looking to the future.

Then Iben arrived.

Had Isak still been at the house?

_‘Is there someone else?’_

_‘Huh?’_

_‘Eskild said that there was a guy you were hanging out with all day yesterday. You looked really close.’_

_‘That guy, he's just a friend. A kid from the village that I've known my whole life. He's just a friend.’_

Had he heard us? Had he only heard _that_ part where I lied that he doesn't matter as much to me as he actually does? Had he missed the part where I told Iben that I didn’t want her; where I reminded her that we were no longer intimate. That I had never felt more than friendship and fleeting lust towards her and that that weak flame had gone. I felt nothing romantic towards her. Nothing deep. Nothing that scorched my veins and left a permanent imprint on my soul the way Isak did.

If he had only heard my lie- a stupid lie I made to reduce hurting Iben more- then everything made sense. It explained why he hadn’t return my calls. Why he didn’t come to my house as promised that evening. Why he rejected my efforts to contact him once I got back to Oslo.

I have asked myself time and again where and how things between us had gone wrong before they had even properly started. Now I had the answer and it sucked because things could have been so different for him and me this past year. I had craved to hear his voice, see his face and feel his body against mine but thought he didn't feel the same. I had  _needed_ one of our bone-crushing hugs. He had no idea how much.

And when I was at my lowest, when my anxieties grew and my ability to cope dropped, his presence would have reminded me of the best parts of my life, conjured up images of summers in the village with him. I am not saying that he would have cured me. But _he_ is my happy place. The place where I feel peace and calm.

He is my oasis and right now my oasis hates me.

"Okay. Okay. Do you want the truth?" I say weakly.

I owe it to him to break through my current state of mind, the noise and paralysis that I thought I had conquered months ago.

"Yes!" He says angrily.

"Okay. Fuck!"

I reach for his hand but he edges even further away from me.

I need to tell him about what happened last year. To explain so that it makes sense. But to tell him what happened means I need to tell him what happened. I know that’s obvious but FUCK! I will have to think about _her_ in a way I have avoiding to do for a while.

She is the person that triggers my worst anxiety.

My breathing accelerates. I can’t catch my breath. I don’t want to think about her. I feel faint.

Flashbacks cut into my thoughts. The bleeding gash on my arm. The droplets of my blood slowly falling from her ring to the grass. Her screams as she is hauled off by police.

In Oslo, her letters of increasing threat welcomed me at the end of every day when I got home, tucked under the front door of my apartment, having been hand delivered by her to the concierge. Her vigil of my apartment complex where she hovered, waiting for me to get home, forced me to circulate my neighbourhood in my car until she disappeared. Her steely eyes tracked me at concerts, restaurants, bars, clubs, parks, anywhere I was with a frequency that made me paranoid that it wasn’t coincidence and that she was stalking my every move. Her avalanche of posts about me on facebook, twitter, the university’s lacrosse team’s webpage, whatsapp groups started to chip at my reputation. Her flood of emails to my friends, acquaintances, university lecturers, professors and employers with false accusations about me eroded my credibility. They were smear campaigns filled with ugly fallacies. Her calls cams at all times of the day or night, until I blocked her.

It all became too much. Way more than I could take, even with reassurance and support from those who had my back. Even with a police investigation that dismissed her narrative against me.

I turned down opportunities to socialise. I skipped classes. I stopped feeling safe in my own home even when I was surrounded by friends and family. I dreaded opening e-mails or opening the door. I jumped when my phone rang or when someone touched me without warning.

It all came to a head. I had gradually become a withdrawn jittery mess. I sought professional help with the encouragement of parents and friends. Doctors to help repair my mental health and the law to put a restraining order on Iben. They called it reactive anxiety which, untreated, had declined into a generalised panic disorder.

But I got better.  Two months without a single panic attack. I thought I was healed. But I feel it now. My shaky hands. A pressure against my throat. A noose around my chest that tightens. I can feel that sensation that I thought was behind me. That I felt I had gained control over. That takes over every cell of my body.

"Okay. I'll tell you, Isak." I whisper.

He looks at me impatiently. My heart is going so fast.  So fast that it might stop soon. My heart is going to stop soon. There is a pain in it that shoots to my arms. IT IS LITERALLY GOING TO STOP ANY SECOND NOW AND I WILL DIE.

I can’t speak!

I choke on a thousand words of explanation. I choke on reacting when Isak shakes his head.

“Thought so.” He says.

I choke as he stands up and gives me one last chance. My olive shorts, one size too big on him, sit low on his hips and even lower when he places his hands on them. He stands to face me, right in front of me, looking down at me as I sit on the side of my bed. His expression of disappointment matches my own feelings towards myself. My silence is not an admission of guilt but that is probably how he sees it. But I do nothing. Say nothing. I am trying not to jump off the edge where I lose all perspective; where my palms go wet with sweat and I puke and withdraw into a ball of unbounded panic.

“I’m sorry.” I wheeze.

I am sorry that I am so fucking weak.

“You can shove your sorry.”

He storms off. Slams my bedroom door so hard that the windows vibrate.

 

+++

 

**Last Winter- Even**

 

Ismail has found me. He stops by my side and looks out of one of the sash windows of his home’s library.

“Fucking snow.” He mutters.

“Yeah.”

He is dressed in pure white, head to toe, in keeping with his tradition. Normally his pre-Christmas party is a big affair, people crowding every corner of his parent’s mansion, but this year he has only invited twenty people.

“Why are you in here alone, mate?” He asks.

“Did you pare the numbers down for me?”

He shrugs. “It's not a party unless my best friend’s here.”

This is how much I have changed- from the guy who loved a party and being surrounded by people to the loner who has found an empty corner of an empty room and has turned his back to even that in favour of looking out of a window at bleak winter weather.

Ismail winks at me. “I want you to have fun.”

He leads me back to the small gathering of friends, announces that dinner is ready, drapes an arm over my shoulder and leads the way to the dining hall.

“Why did you wink?” I ask him.

What is he up to?

“No reason.” He winks again.

Mother fucker. He is up to something.

The decorations at the centre of the long dining table are seasonal; opulent candles and rustic pine cones on a red runner. In no time there is bubbly conversation, flowing red wine and flavoursome, rich Ethiopian food; various types of _wat_ (stew) and _injera_ , a sourdough flatbread. Food that reminds me of the comfort and welcome of Ismail’s family. But today it does nothing to put me at ease.

I am perpetually on edge.

I can’t get into the fun and joy of the night. I feel sorry for the two people sat either side of me. Brigitte, on my left, is someone I do a couple of business modules with at university and Paolo, on my right, is a guy I barely know but recognise as a member of Ismail’s motorcycle club. He keeps saying “Shit, this food is spicy!” while tears stream down his face.

Seeing them is confirmation of why Ismail insisted I come tonight and winked at me earlier. He is trying to hook me up.

Hell no.

“Can I remind you guys that Christmas isn't until the 7th of January?!” He chortles as he addresses the table.  

“Same shit different Christmas, mate.” Tomas groans.

“Here we go again!” Emma laughs.

“It bears repeating!” Ismail laughs too. “You guys are thirteen days late to everything I invite you to! Get your dates right, people!”

There are a few groans, laughs and giggles. It's a little high brow. A calendar in-joke. There aren't many of them around for good reason.

“What does he mean?” Motorcycle-guy-who-can't-handle-spice says to my right.

I turn to him. “Orthodox Ethiopian Christians use the Julian calendar instead of the Gregorian one.”

“Gregorian?” Motorcycle guy asks.

Brigitte smiles. “The calendar we use every day.”

I nod in agreement. Physically he’s a ten but I'm a sapiosexual.

“Oh.” He looks embarrassed. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Many people don’t realise that there’s more than one calendar out there.” I reassure.

“So what's the difference between our one and the other one?”

“You really want to know?”

He nods and leans in.

“I’m not the best person to ask. The answer’s all got to do with how our earth revolves around the sun and the seasons we get as a result. I have a… friend who could explain it much better than I ever could.”

He smiles. “Try.”

I remember how Isak put it to me years back. A fifteen year old schooling an eighteen year old.

“From the 16th century the Julian calendar has been replaced by the Gregorian one as the main calendar used around the world. Pope Gregory wanted to move Easter’s date forward by thirteen days.”

“So that's why an Ethiopian Christmas is celebrated on the 7th of January.” Paolo says. “I get the joke now.”

“Yeah.” I say.

He nods. “And today is the 25th of December according to the Julian Calendar. Funny!” He grins at me. “Mind blown!”

“But moving Easter wasn’t the real reason for making changes to the calendar. That was just a convenient foil-”

He leans in. “Enough about calendars. Ismail told me that your dad is from Tromsø. So’s mine. And you have an interest in Ancient Roman studies.” He points at himself. “And my mum happens to be from the South of Italy. So we already have lots in common.”

 

+

 

“So what do you think of Paolo?” Ismail asks after dinner.

“Who?”

“The guy I sat you next to. He’s hot, isn't he? The smile. The hair.”

“So date him.” I reply.

He laughs. “But seriously. I thought you'd be pleased.”

I shake my head. “I'm not looking, mate.”

“Brigitte then?” He raises and lowers his eyebrows.

“I think I'm going home.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

He sighs. Looks concerned. “Is this because of what’s been happening with Iben?”

“What do you mean?”

“The way you are being.”

“No.” I say too quickly to be convincing.

“You're different. I'm worried.”

“I'm fine.”

He lays a hand on my shoulder, suddenly. It startles me. I jump out of my skin and he frowns.

“Bro. This is bad.”

“It's not.”

“You’re jumpy as fuck. You don't go out any more. You're withdrawn.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“That’s clearly a lie. You need to see someone. Call the cops. Talk to someone even if it’s not me.” He stares at me and adds, “And I don't want to sound harsh but pining after kayak boy isn't helping.”

Ismail has a way of reading my thoughts that’s disarming. He looks at me sympathetically. “He fucking ghosted you, dude. That's bullshit especially with everything that’s happened to you.”

I can't hear Isak spoken of negatively.

“He doesn't know what happened.”

Ismail looks surprised. “Well then case in point. If he cared he would have made it his business to know. You've got to move on and get better.”

 

+

 

When my limo pulls to a stop next to the stairs leading to my apartment block I look outside, carefully, all around me. I can't see anyone lurking but it’s dark, snowing and icy cold. I can't be sure.

The chauffeur steps out and opens the door for me.

He looks at me patiently.

“There’s no one out here, sir.”  He reassures.

“I know. Thank you.” I say shakily before stepping out and sprinting into the relative safety of the building. I briefly say hello to the concierge and make sure the lift is empty when it arrives to take me to the top floor.

Once I step into the penthouse I turn all the lights on. I carefully walk through each room in a ritual I have followed for the last few months. I look behind curtains, under beds, behind partitions. I go back to the apartment’s front door and double check that I have locked it. I do the same with all the windows. Just to make extra sure.

I relax a little. Go to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water. Walk back into the living room. I stare out of the windows and watch as snowflakes melt on contact with the warm window pane before rippling slowly downwards as silent tears. The roads below, surrounding buildings and my courtyard are dusted by a fluffy white carpet of snow.  

                             

There is a loud metallic clang behind me. It gives me a shock and my water glass slips out of my hand, breaking on contact with the floor. Water everywhere. I turn to the sound. It's an intruder! It's her!

My heart is thumping from its fight or flight response. But of course it's nothing. There are more rhythmic clangs and I recognise the sound for what it is; the grandfather clock striking midnight in the second reception room.

                             

 

I feel like a fool. I can't seem to get a grip. I fall onto my sofa. I try calming my nerves.

_“Talk to someone even if it’s not me.”_

I tap at Isak’s number on my phone. This is the fourth or fifth time that I have tried to call him since coming back to Oslo.

I can't stop myself despite knowing the outcome.

_Don't call._

_He's obviously not into you._

_Take the hint._

_He doesn't want anything to do with you._

But I'm a sucker for pain and unsurprisingly the call goes straight to voicemail.

‘Hi. It's Isak. Let's face it, I'm probably staring at stars. Send me a text. Bye.’

I speak. Fuck it. There is a chance he might choose to hear my message this time.

“Hi. I'm calling to wish you a great holiday, Isak. You’ve broken up for Christmas already, right?” I pause. “Actually that's not why I'm calling. I just want to talk with you. We were good at that, remember? Just hanging out and chatting about shit. It felt good. I always looked forward to it. And I feel like I fucked that up when I kissed you because you don’t want to see me or talk to me. I’m sorry if I misread your signals. If you weren’t ready for something more or if you don’t want anything more. I really hope that we can stay friends at least. I miss that.”

I end the call and stare at my phone.

And it hits me all at once. The realisation that I miss him **_unbearably_ **. I missed him through the autumn and winter. I'll miss him in the spring. His complete absence- no texts, no calls, no word back from the village about him- feels like the largest void my soul has ever experienced. It opens up like a chiasm when I think that he may never want to speak with me again. I have considered reasons why he has blanked me since our night together. Is it because he is in the closet and wasn't yet ready to come out to himself or to others? Is it because I pushed too hard? But he seemed just as keen to do what we did. Is it what he heard my friends say in the kitchen the day after and does he think I'm a fuck boy who planned to add his name to my black book?

If he let us talk I could straighten things out. I could tell him that I am not as smart as he is. It took me until this summer to figure a few things out. Like the fact that he is the reason I go back to the village every summer. Not the house or kayaking, fjords or the peace and calm of the country. He has always been important to me. Probably for as long as I have known him. And while what drew me to him wasn't physical until a few months ago, my desire for him is just the latest puzzle piece added to the picture of all that he means to me.

He injects me with a sense of adventure. He challenges my mind. He has taught me compassion for others and an alternate view of the world to my own. He has offered me companionship, the brother I never had. He has been my competitor and my co-conspirator. He's a fucking goof ball with a soul of steal.

He is far stronger than I am.

If he answered my call one day, or if I felt able to return to the village without worry and anxieties, I would tell him that the thought that he may be out of my life destroys me.

My home phone rings. I grip my chest. I walk, tiptoe, to it fearing that it might be _her_.

“Hello.”

“Hello Mr Bech Næsheim. It’s reception. Sorry to call you at this late hour but Mr Tafese is here. Shall I let him up?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

I let Ismail in the minute he rings the apartment’s doorbell.

“Don’t you have a party to host?” I ask, confused.

He clocks the broken glass and spilled water on the floor and pulls me into a silent hug.

“Nah, mate. Let’s get you sorted first.”

 

+++

 

**This Summer- Even- 18th June **

 

I lean over the counter of the reception at the village’s GP practice.

Ina, the receptionist, happens to be David-with-the-failing-eyes’s daughter.

“Isn’t there another doctor I can see?” I whisper in case Dr Moholt is close and hears me.  

Ina looks at me as though I’m mad. “Dr Moholt is the only doctor in the village. She only gets cover when she’s sick which was last in 1999 or if she takes a holiday which she never does.”

“Right.” She knows my parents and word can't get back to them that I've relapsed.  They'll fret unnecessarily.

“She’d love to see you.” She looks at her computer. “And you’re in luck. People don’t come when the sun’s out.  She has a slot in ten minutes time.”

“Actually what I’ve got, it was bad yesterday but now it’s fine.”

“There she is!” Ina says gleefully and raises her hand. “Doctor! Guess who’s here?”

“Even!”

“Hi, Dr. Moholt.”  

Damn. Fucking. Shit.

 

+

 

I take a seat in the doctor’s consultation room. “I was telling Ina that I really don't need to see you after all.”

“That’s fine. It’s nice to catch up. When you were a kid your parents would bring you in with cuts and scrapes. You and little Isak were so well behaved even while I applied the stingy antiseptic cream or stitched up your cuts.” She smiles. “What is it that the two of you got up to exactly? You would both just say that you had gone on an adventure. With your secretive, conspiratorial smiles.”

“We’d go climbing. Exploring. Falling off things or onto them. Rocks. Tree branches. We were having fun.”

“It must have been lovely to have a partner in crime.”

She looks at me when my face drops. It’s the mention of Isak.

“Are you okay?”

“Yep.”

 _No_.

She frowns because she knows me well enough to know that I am lying. Her light mood drops. “Last year, when you came in with your friends and that police officer your injury wasn’t due to a rock or fall.”

“No.”

“Did your arm heal up okay?”

I nod.

“I put in 12 stitches if I remember correctly.”

 

_I told him very clearly to send 12_

_hearts! One for every year that_

_I have known you. 12 not 2!!!_

 

That text to Isak was just two days ago. Feels like a lifetime ago.

She leans forward. “Let’s have a look.”

I show her my left forearm. She pushes her glasses closer to the tip of her nose then looks over the top of them. “Neat scar even though I say so myself.”

“I just need a prescription for my anti-anxiety meds please.” I blurt out.

I reach into my pocket and pass her an empty box of pills.

“There’s the name and dose of the drug my doctor in Oslo was giving me before he stopped them.”

Her frown deepens. “Why do you feel you need to restart them?” She glances at her computer. “The last letter I have from your psychiatrist says that you stopped taking them a few months ago and that you’ve been doing well with CBT.”

“But he said that if my symptoms came back I could restart on them. I’m getting symptoms again.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“That is literally the last thing I want to do.”

“It might help.” She looks at me encouragingly.  

“Okay.” I take a deep breath. Exhale. “Don't tell mum and dad."

"Everything you say is confidential. You know that."

"Okay." I count to five in my head and take a breath.

"Yesterday, Isak came over to my place...”

 

+++

 

**This Summer- Even- 15th June**

 

It’s early morning and the posse has just left my place. They said their goodbyes and tried to persuade me, once again, to take the private plane Tomas’s parents have lent us to St Lucia with them this afternoon.

“Mate, you’re missing out!” Erik says. “This is to celebrate our graduation! What the fuck?!”

“I’ll be there in two week’s time.” I promise.

Tomas. “He’s off to try with kayak boy again. I have to commend your dedication to getting what you want, dude.”

“Tent scene.” Julian giggles.

Ismail hangs back. “Are you sure you’re ready to go back to the village?”

I nod. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

“Call if you change your mind.”

When they’re gone get my phone and stare at a number that I have been thinking about calling for a while but have put off doing because I was worried about how it would go.

Before giving myself time to bail out I make the call.

“Hello.” I say as soon as there is pick up.

“Even?”

“I’m sorry to call you out of the blue.”

“It’s okay. Are you okay?” He asks. He’s immediately concerned. Can’t blame him. This is a random call and my voice is strained, hesitant.

I grip my phone hard. “Yep.”

“Where are you?”

“At home in my apartment.”

“Oslo?”

I nod then remember that this is a phone conversation. “Yes. I just wanted to say that I am coming to the village tomorrow.”

“That’s great.”

“Yeah.”

“Isak is in his room. Do you want to speak with him?”

Yes.

“No!”

“Okay.” Fredrik hides 99% of his confusion and acts as if it is a totally normal reaction.

“I think…  I’ll speak with him when I get there.” That way he won’t have the option to simply end the call. “He won’t want to speak with me now.”

“How do you know?”

“I know.”

“It’s not wise to assume what someone else’s thoughts or actions might be. Trust me.”

I am pretty sure I know how Isak would react. “Things didn’t- your son doesn’t likes me.”

Isak’s dad doesn’t answer straight away so I fear the worst. I am certain that he will confirm my suspicions- that Isak hates my guts.

After a pause he says, “He likes you a lot, Even. He always has.”

“Right.” I say to make it clear that I don’t think that’s true.

“Someone’s true feelings are not always the ones you get to see.” He says. “When exactly are you coming tomorrow?”

“Around lunchtime.”

“He’ll be at the kayak shop.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I’m afraid I’ll miss you though because Tore has called in sick. Mari and I will have to take on his bookings. We’ll be on the water doing tours all day. So...” He inhales. “Isak will have to man the shop solo.”

My heart is already beating hard in anticipation. I can’t wait to see him. I am excited and nervous at the prospect.

“By the way, how did he do in his exams?”

I can hear the smile in Fredrik's voice. “He graduated first in his class.” He says it with all the pride a father can have for his son. “My son.”

“That’s awesome.” If it’s possible I feel just as proud of him.

“And I hear you did well yourself at your graduation.”

“Yeah.” I did far better than I thought I would given the number of classes I missed.

“You’re a smart pair.”

“Sometimes I don’t feel like it.” I admit. “Anyway. I should go. I’ve kept you too long. So, yeah, I guess I’ll see you soon.”

“Even.”

“Yes.”

“You should let Isak know what's been going on with you.”

Wait? How does Fredrik know? The answer to that question is 'my parents'. One hundred per cent.

I wasn't planning to tell Isak. What's the point if I am better now. If he knows that I have had a panic disorder or if he witnesses me having one he’ll see me as weak. I don’t want that. I don’t want him to know how helpless I can become. How powerless I can feel.

“It’s in the past. He doesn’t need to know.” I say.

Fred sounds introspective. “It strange how human nature makes us shield the truth from people we love to avoid hurting them. But by hiding we only manage to push them out of our lives. I have learned that over the past few years. But I have also learned that when people care they care about all of you. The nice parts. The not so nice parts. The parts that you may think they will hate. And they want to be part of it all. So don’t ever hide those parts of you from those who love you, Even.”

 _Love_?

“Love? Isak doesn’t love me.”

“I am speaking hypothetically.” Fredrik adds slowly.

“So hypothetically, what if the person doesn’t want to speak with me? What do I do?” I am asking Fred as if he is my life line. He is someone who knows Isak better than me, for as long as he has been on this Earth. His blood runs through his son’s veins.

“Honestly, I don’t know…”

“Hypothetically.” I try.

“Hypothetically…” He pauses. “Okay. Hypothetically, all you can do is show them how much they mean to you. How much you love them and hope that one day they’ll open up to you.”

 

+++

 

**This Summer- Even- 19th June**

 

**_09.21_ **

 

_Hi. Someone I respect told me recently_

_that I should never hide things from_

_the people I love. So I want to explain_

_everything to you and I am doing_

_it by text because I don’t want to fuck_

_things up by freezing the way I did_

_w_ _hen_ _you came over._

 

_I get panic attacks. That is what you_

_saw. I got my first one last summer_

_three days after the pool party when_

_I saw a pale blue Mini driving in the_

_centre of Oslo. It’s the car that Iben_

_drives and I thought it was her._

 

_She is someone who goes to my uni_

_and who I worked with. She isn’t and_

_has never been my girlfriend but we_

_slept together once in awhile. We_

_were friends with benefits. Looking_

_back, I was filling a void in my life_

_with a temporary plug. I didn’t know_

_it at the time but I created a mess. She_

_thought we were in a relationship that_

_didn’t exist and she started stalking me_

_when I broke things off. She came to_

_the village last summer uninvited and_

_I tried to de-escalate the situation but_

_it didn’t work. When I got back to Oslo_

_things got to a point where I felt_

_like she was everywhere. I was always_

_scared. I feel embarrassed about that._

 

_I feel like I should have been stronger_

_to deal with it. I didn’t want anyone_

_to know that I wasn’t coping. So I hid_

_it until I couldn’t hide it any more._

_I am better now but I still feel like I_

_have lost something._

 

_I tried reaching you but couldn’t get_

_through. I thought you were avoiding_

_me because of what happened between_

_us even though what happened was_

_the best thing to happen to me. I felt_

_like,_ _with you, I have found the missing_

 _puzzle_ _piece in my life. And stupidly I_

 _thought_ _you felt the same._

 

_So I couldn’t understand why you_

_didn’t come that evening and why_

_you didn’t return my calls._ _I came_

 _back_ _to_ _the village this summer_

_hoping that we could turn back time_

_to a point where we still talked and_

_were friends_ _if that is all you want us_

 _t_ _o be. Is that_ _possible?_

 

+

 

**_21.21_ **

 

Without Isak this village could be any other. There is nothing to make it special. I can find fjords, valleys and kayaks anywhere but not him. I’ll stay tonight at the house but early tomorrow I’ll go back to Oslo and take the next flight out to St Lucia to join the guys.

I didn’t expect Isak to reply to my text straight away but after 12 hours of nothing I don’t think that he will reply at all.

So I am surprised when my phone rings.

My heart beats in anticipation. I know it is him with all the certainty of a delusional fool because of course it isn’t him. It’s Eva.

I hesitate answering, dreading the earful I might receive. The phone’s audio automatically feeds into my bedroom’s blue tooth sound system freeing my hands up to take out my suitcase and place it on my bed.

“Hi.”

“Hi! It’s Eva!”

“How are you?”

She seems happy which means she must know little to nothing of what's happened between Isak and me, which I guess makes sense if they are having or have had a thing.

I place folded shirts into the suitcase then empty my socks and underwear from my drawers onto my bed.

“Yeah. Great! Enjoying the weather, you know. How about you?”

“I’ve spent the day at home, swimming and drawing.”

“You haven’t spoken to Isak?”

“No.” I say.

“Same. He’s not answering my calls. Anyway, as promised, I am ringing you to let you know what we are planning to do for his surprise birthday. It’s in, like, two days time! AHHHH!”

I look at my pile of clothes and open suitcase and continue to pack. “What were you thinking?”

“We could go to the cinema first because that is kind of a tradition at this point and he loves it."

                         

“Then we could take him to Babylon because the rest of us have been but he’s the last of us to turn eighteen so it’ll be like a baptism into club life. And he can have drinks on us all night! And if you don’t mind we could finish the night off at your place, like maybe laze around in your pool and wait for the sun to rise together.”

“I won’t be here.”

“What?!”

“I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“But I thought you said you were here for two weeks. You only got here two days ago.” There is silence at her end then a disappointed, “Oh” then more silence and, “Have you told Isak?”

“Not yet.”

“He’ll be sad that you won’t be here.”

I laugh at that. The dryest most ironic laugh. “Okay.”

“He will. He- oh fuck- seriously, you’re going? That sucks.”

Not the reaction I expected from her.

“Why do you care?”

“For Isak. I mean, yeah.” She pauses. “Even, are you serious right now?”

“Yes.”

“God! What’s with the two of you?!”

“How do you mean?”

She groans in frustration then sighs. “Nothing. Nothing. No offence but for intelligent people you two are pretty dumb.”

Rude. I want to ask her what she means by that but the doorbell rings unexpectedly. I apologise, end the call and run down to the telecom.

I must be experiencing heat stroke or something because in the video monitor I see a mirage.

I see Isak.

 

+++

 

**Three Summer’s Ago- Even **

 

I have missed Isak’s actual birthday, like I normally do, but now that I am back in the village I get to give him my present. We go on a mountain trek. But it’s a trek with a twist because he has fifteen clues to get right, each leading to the next, in order to get to his destination and his surprise. Fifteen clues representing how long he has been on this Earth- written on slips of paper and hidden in waterproof bags dotted over a large area around the village. Mum and dad think I’ve gone crazy for all the effort I’ve put in. Isak’s parents think he’ll love the surprise and adventure.

We stop once on the climb up a small mountain so that I can fill up our water bottles with running water from a stream.

                            

Isak takes a picture of me while at the same time warning me worriedly to,

“Be careful. Please. Just come back now.”

The clues are way too easy for him. It's early afternoon by the time we reach our destination with Tiny. It’s a clearing that looks onto a mountain lake that turns into a stream that descends down a valley towards the fjords below.

                            

“This is beautiful.” He says as I lead us to a spot a few metres away from a wooden outpost.

“Yeah. I think so.”

I didn’t plan this well at all. We are both hungry and the only food I’ve brought with me are two bars of _Stratos_ chocolate, which have partly melted in my pocket, and an apple that we share.

                                

“It’s okay. This is perfect.” He says.

He is being generous. Next time we do something like this I’ll be better prepared. While Tiny sleeps we talk and slurp the gluey remains of our chocolate bars from the inner silver lining of the wrapping.

Now to the surprise. I start with a hint.

“Have I told you that I’m getting a new car next year?”

“What is it?”

“Promise you won’t eye roll.”

“I can’t do that.” He grins.

I smile. “I’m sure you’ll figure out why I’ve chosen it.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Make?”

“Lambo.”

He rolls his eyes at me and I laugh.

“I’m pretty sure that only middle aged men with thinning hair and mistresses half their age drive those!”

I shrug.  “And soon-ish I will too.” I show him a picture on my phone. “Look at it. So fucking beautiful. They’re making it as we speak.”

I can tell he likes it by the slight curve in his lip. He touches the screen and enlarges the picture. “It’s okay.”

“You like it.”

He smiles at me so I smile back. “I know you like it. I can tell just by looking at you.”

He looks away suddenly. Goes red and pulls away from me. He looks out at the lake.

“What?” I say.

He shrugs and changes subject. “Did you know that our calendar is out of whack?”

What rabbit hole did his mind go down to end up thinking about calendars of all things?

“What does that have to do with cars?”

“It doesn’t. But it has to do with birthdays so.”

“Okay. Explain.”

“So like I noticed it a while back, how my birthday wasn’t at the same time every year.”

“It’s always on the 21st of June.”

“Yeah but… okay let me start again. The whole point of having a calendar is to keep track of time, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Wrong!” He sits up straight, suddenly excited and hyper-animated- and turns to face me, legs crossed. “Or at least partly wrong. Because it's also meant to keep us in sync with the astronomical seasons; the equinoxes and solstices.

 

                

"So our calendar should be in line with the solar year, the time it really takes for the earth to revolve around the sun,

               

"But it isn't, not perfectly anyway.” He says.

I face him. “So you are telling me that it doesn’t really take 365 days for the Earth to circle the sun.”

“Yeah. Exactly. There are 365.2524 days according to the Gregorian calendar.”

I grin. “Geek.”

He grins back. “But that’s inaccurate. And before the Gregorian calendar we had the Julian calendar.”

“Named after Roman Emperor Julius Caesar who proposed it in 46BC.”

“How do you know that?”

“You’re not the only one to know stuff about stuff, Prof Valtersen. I know my Roman history. Don't say that you aren't impressed.”

He blushes, like he did moments ago.

‘‘You’re going to tell me that the Julian calendar was less accurate than the Gregorian one.” I say.

“Yes. 0.002% less accurate. So it had to go.”

“Hold up! They changed to a whole new fucking calendar because it was more accurate by 0.002%?”

He smiled. “Yes! Actually no. That was the _real_ reason for the change but because Christianity was the dominant religion, the way they managed to pass the change globally was by order of Pope Gregory who used the opportunity to push the dates back by a few days so that Easter fell at a time that was more traditional. Most people bought it and so now we are where we are.”

“Interesting.”

“Isn’t it?”

“But what does that have to do with your birthday?”

“Yes! That’s the thing. Even though this calendar is better than the last one it’s still not perfect. Like I’ve been keeping an eye on when my birthday happens. This year it hasn’t fallen on a summer solstice but the next three years it will.”

Isak's birthday being on the longest day of the year, the summer solstice, is pure poetry. Like the sun somehow decided that on his date of birth it would shine for as long as possible.  

I find him fascinating and as the years go on, more so every time. I don't know anyone who looks at the world quite the way he does. From such a distance and yet from so up close. He is equally interested in detail as he is the whole picture of things.

I wish I could get into his mind and see how it worked.

“What made you think of that? The calendar thing… when we were talking about cars.”

“You said you are getting your new car next year. Which made me remember that you got your first car earlier this year for your eighteenth birthday. Your dad’s beamer.” My parent’s are keen to see that I drive responsibly before getting me a brand new car. “Which made me realise that the lambo is going to be your birthday present for your nineteenth birthday.”

“True.” My parents don’t do surprises.

“And that made me think about my birthday...”

I smile. “Okay.”

“... and how it doesn’t always fall on summer solstice...”

“And that’s what made you think about calendars?” I ask.

He nods. “Because if our calendars were right my birthday would always be on a summer solstice.”

I press my forefinger to his forehead. Don’t know why. I think it’s because I like what goes on in there. I push his hair off his face and pat his cheek.

“Sometimes I wish I was older.” He says softly.

“Why?”

“People would treat me differently... including you.”

I laugh and ruffle his hair like I ruffle Tiny’s ears.

He pushes my hand off.

“Trust me. Being a grown up isn't all it's cracked up to be.” I stand up and dust my shorts off. “Do you want to see your birthday present now?”

He narrows his eyes at me. “What birthday present?”

“When I was talking about my car I wasn’t just showing off. I was trying to give you a clue about what I got you.”

He looks confused. “A car?”

I laugh. “You’re fifteen, Isak.”

He shrugs.

“No. It’s not a car.” I wink. “But do you remember what I got for _my_ fifteenth birthday.”

He stands up. Immediately enraptured.

“Yes! No. Don’t say you-” He says excitedly and cuts himself off.

He tracks me as I run around the back of the outpost where yesterday dad and I placed his gift and covered it in a large plastic sheet.

I wheel it out and Isak has his hands covering his mouth. “Are you serious!?”

Fuck but it makes me happy to see him so happy.

“Ta da!” I say,

“A fucking bike!”

I try to pass it to him but he ignores it and pulls me into a hug that forces me to drop his present and wrap my arms around him.

“Thank you!”

“It’s a bit big but dad said to get this size because you’ll grow into it.” I smile as he pushes me away and jumps on it, cycling in ever increasing circles around me.  

“Don’t get near the water!” I shout.

“It’s perfect! Your parents are awesome!” He screams. “Hey!” He shouts at me as he whizzes round and round. “How are we going to get it back down?”

 

+++

 

**This Summer- Even- 19th June**

 

I press the buzzer that unlocks the side gate to let Isak onto the property not knowing what to say or what to do or what will happen. Is he here to shout at me, to tell me to fuck off or to tell me I am a dick?

He drags his bike by his side as he crosses the garden. Drags it as if he hates me. Let’s it drop to the ground when he reaches the front door as though discarding a toxic heap of shit.

He stares at me but doesn’t say anything.

So I open my mouth ready for whatever is on my mind to spill out.

“Mute.” He whispers before I say a word.

“What?”

“I said mute. It means you can’t say whatever it is you were going to say.”

“Says who?”

“It’s something Eva and I do.”

“Eva?”

He sighs. “Just don’t speak, okay.”

I nod.

He looks at me with eyes that have seen the world, too old and cynical for a guy his age.

“Yesterday dad told me that you were the one to buy me the bike for my fifteenth birthday.”

I look down at it as if looking at my bleeding broken heart.

“And that you also got me my TV and the telescope.  I don’t know why you let me believe that your parents bought me those presents.”

I never said they bought them. He just assumed.

I start to reply.

“I’m not done.” He raises a finger. “And like I said before, last year I lost my phone. That is why you couldn’t get hold of me…" His shoulders slump, he exhales and his tone softens. "But I could have gotten hold of you. I didn’t because I was hurt. Like really hurt because I thought that you played me. I saw you with her and I felt betrayed. And then I felt like an idiot because I figured that I made a big deal out of what happened between us. Like maybe you hadn’t seen it as a big deal or something. So I told myself to move on. And I did until you came back.”

He takes a step closer to me.

“Can I say something now?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve spent the whole day re-reading the text messages you sent this morning.” For the first time something appears on his face that resembles a smile.

“I want to be unmuted.”

“What do you want to say?”

“I don’t know.”

He takes my hand. "For your information if you apply quantum mechanics and believe that wormholes exist then time travel is possible and we could go back to the beginning of last summer."

                     

"You lost me at quantum."

He chews his lip. "I don't want to go back in time."

"I don't either."

It may seem crazy to say that given my autumn and winter but erasing the last year would also mean that we wouldn't have experienced the moments that we shared. No flutter in my heart when I saw him in the kayak shop with Tiny and my mates. No picnic by the abandoned lake house. No pool party. No sleep over. No kiss a few days ago and the hope of something more... well, until my panic attack and his rage.

"I am sorry about what happened to you last year.”

“Yeah. It’s okay.”

“It isn’t.”

He is right so I am honest. “No. It isn’t but I'm better.”

“I have been a bad friend.” He says.

“I don’t see it that way.”

He searches my eyes and I look back at him. The guy who makes me feel whole. Who brings me peace. Who I want in my life; summer, autumn, winter and spring. My oasis and the missing puzzle piece in my life.

My crucolo.

“I know what I want to say now.” I tell him.

I think it before I say it. Trying it out in my head. Not to fuck it up. Four words.

_I love you, Isak._

“I think we fucked up.” He says. “After what happened between us things got too complicated, you know? And I hated that. We nearly ruined what we have. So I think, maybe, actually definitely, we should just be friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the typos : (


	13. The One With a Knowing Fredrik, Helpful Even, A Decision That Isak Regrets And Adulting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Latte art and fish on the barbie.

**This Summer- Isak- 19th June**

 

It's just before eleven pm and Eva’s mouth is full. I can hear her teeth crunching on something while we talk on the phone. “Even was being so weird on the phone earlier though.”

“Why did you call him?” I mumble. I am in bed, on top of its covers, head to one side with my phone balancing on my ear; legs and arms spread out to try and dissipate the heat from my skin despite already being down to my briefs. This summer is a fucking inferno.

“That information is need to know.” Eva says which obviously means that it has to do with my ‘surprise’ birthday. “I guess his attitude made sense because you ripped him a new one for some reason and stormed off so he thought that you hated him at the time…”

There is a pause where I hear the sound of a bag crinkling and then Eva chewing on something crunchy again. Crisps. That’s what she is eating.

“He told me that he was going back to Oslo tomorrow. Made it sound final like he was never coming back” She says mid-chew. “Shit. I shouldn’t be eating so late but they are so nice!”

“Even’s leaving?” I sit up in bed. Suddenly my friend has my undivided attention. Suddenly I feel wide awake and ripped apart. Why do I feel like crying? Why do I feel like my heart’s empty?

Why did Even not think it was important to tell me?

“That's what he told _me_ but I spoke to him before you got to his place and cleared things up...” More chewing. “Did he tell you he was leaving?”

“No.”

“See. That's good.”

“He didn’t really say much.”

“So what happened then, when you got there?” She asks excitedly.

“We talked.”

“Did you make up?”

“Yes.”

“And then make out? God that’s so hot if you did! Like if you got to a new level of understanding each other and then one thing lead to another and you had make up sex but it was also first time sex-”

“Mute.”

Eva groans in frustration. “Argh! No! You can’t mute me! Tell me!”

“What did I miss?”

Wait. What? Is that…

“Is that Jonas?”

Eva giggles. “Yes! I told you he brought the crisps.”

"No you didn't."

"Didn't I? Okay. We’re having a sleepover. My parents are away for a couple of days so, you know. Wait. I’ll put you on speakerphone.”

“I was in the toilet.” Jonas says. “‘Sup?”

“Nothing.” I say.

“Isak was just telling me what happened between him and Even earlier.”

“Did you get back together?”

I frown. “We were never together.”

“You know what I mean.”

“We’re friends again if that’s what you mean?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Eva shouts. “JUST FRIENDS?!”

“You’re muted, Eva.”

So Jonas replaces his girlfriend with the questions. “Why friends? Eva told me that Even’s text explained everything. He said he likes you so what’s the problem?”

He’s baffled because he doesn’t understand that it’s better to be friends than trying to be more than friends and running the risk of ruining what we have had for the last twelve years.

“It's better this way.” I say. "We messed things up last year."

I can hear Eva whispering something.

“And how does Even feel about the friend thing?” Jonas asks.

“Okay.”

“Ask him-” Eva whispers. “- what did Even say, exactly.”

I hate when they double team me. “You can’t get Jonas to ask questions for you, Eva.”

Jonas says. “What did he say exactly?”

Fine. Whatever.

“I said, ‘I think we should be friends. Actually we should definitely be friends’. Something like that. And he said…” Even’s face is crystal clear in my mind as I spoke to him at his front door. “‘Is that what you want?’ And I said, ‘yes.’ And he said ‘fine, okay’.”

He didn't even fight it so that was that.

Jonas. “Wow.”

Eva. “Wow.”

Jonas again. “Wow.”

“What?” I say.

“You're really bad at this, dude.” Jonas speaks to me like speaking to a little child. “If you give someone a choice between starving to death and a meal of badger balls which do you think they're going to pick?”

“Huh?”

“The point is that you asked a guy who really likes you to pick between friendship and nothing. He was always going to pick badger balls rather than starve, mate.”

“Mute.”

“You can’t mute me, bro. You’ve literally plucked Even’s heart from his chest, stabbed it and trampled on it. You do know that, right?”

“He is totally chill about it.”

“I’m telling you, he isn’t. And if you’re not careful you won’t even have a friendship with him by the end of this summer.”

 

+

 

00.17. It’s too hot. That's why I’m tossing and turning in bed. Not because I'm thinking about Even or what Jonas said.

Are he and Eva right?  Have I fucked up with him? I can’t stop this horrible feeling that by the time I wake up tomorrow he’ll be gone. And not just for this summer but for good. Out of my life. After all, everything changes after this. I go to uni and he starts working. And although, ironically, those facts bring us geographically closer together with both of us being in the capital, it does not make up for the fact that our lives will diverge even further. We’ll both be adults where the only physical thing that linked us, the village, will no longer regularly feature in our lives.

Fuck.

I stand up. Go to the garden to Evan and pull up a chair. I place it so that I can sit down and sky gaze at the same time.

I touch the telescope and remember how last year Even came over and rolled up his sleeves and helped me set it up. I remember how we saw the moon together and talked and goofed around. I remember how even though he didn’t realise it, Even forced me to fall even more for him than I had the year before.

How fucking dare he? How dare he be nice, funny and hot. How dare he feed my childhood crush to a point where it grew to something far more than I could control?

“I hate you.” I hiss at the inanimate object. “You fucking suck!”

“You okay?”

I jump and look behind me. Dad is standing in the door frame.

I act calm and nod. “Yeah. Cool.”

“What are you doing out here. It’s after midnight.”

I shrug. “I can’t sleep.”

He walks toward me.

“No, dad. That wasn’t an invitation for a conversation.” I am the worst son. “I just want to be alone.”

“Okay.” He nods and takes a step back. I breath a sigh of relief until he repeats, “Okay.” Then he stands by the door and looks at me. Strums the wood frame with his fingers.

“Hey, kid?”

“Yeah.”

“You know you can tell me anything.”

“Yep.”

Ish. Actually, not really. I feel like I can’t share this with dad. This thing that is happening in my life. This thing that feels like 99% of me right now. I can’t. I just know that he wouldn’t understand. I know it. He isn’t a man who shares. He is a silent, closed book. Locked and sealed. How could he understand?

“Okay.” He continues to strum his fingers. “Okay.”

The strumming stops and he presses a closed fist to the door frame. He marches up to me and I am confused when he stops right in front of me and stares.

“What?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. You really looked like your mother there for a second. Must be the light.”

That is the first time he has mentioned her name out of the context of me going to see her. It feels strange.

“It’s genetics.”

“I know.” He shakes his head. “It's like seeing the two best people in my life rolled up into one.”

I cock my head at him. “Mum?”

Wait. Does dad think about mum still?

He doesn't answer my question but says, “I have been a very lucky man. I wish I had always known it.”

Where did that come from?

He gives me a small smile. “I don't say it enough but I am so proud of you.”

He ruffles my hair the way he used to do when I was a little kid and instead of pushing him off me like I would be tempted to do normally, I let it happen. It feels awesome. It feels like home.

“Love you kid."

"Love you too, dad."

"Night.”

It’s weird how for some reason, after our little chat, sleep comes easier.

 

+++

 

**This Summer- Isak- 18th June**

 

The forecast has today down as the hottest day of the year. So I probably shouldn't be on my back on a beach towel, knees bent and feet flat to the ground, by the side of Even’s swimming pool under the direct heat of the sun. My only cool relief is my hand, stretched out and lapping at the pool water. I pull my swimming trunks up to my groin but that barely helps.

Even has already urged me to join him under the shade but I've refused. The truth is I can't be too near him in case I do something stupid. I am trying to hold onto what he did to me and that girlfriend of his last year and trying to act nonchalant but I’m the opposite. My stomach is in knots and I am completely self aware. 

I accepted his invitation for a late breakfast as a friend. FRIEND. That’s all. I have to remind myself of that. We haven't yet discussed what happened last year but I think that after everything he’ll have to agree that we are best off being JUST FRIENDS.

I try my hardest not to stare at him as he lounges in a reclining chair, under the shade of his garden’s winged sail facing the pool but not looking at me. At least I don't think he's looking at me but I can’t say for sure because he’s wearing sunglasses and he hasn't said a word or moved a muscle for a few minutes now.

I think he’s taking a nap… so is there any real harm in giving him a quick once over? I don’t think so.

He is wearing a snapback - my snapback- white shorts and a salmon coloured shirt that's unbuttoned and open. He avoids the sun because he burns easily so his chest is only lightly tanned. Pale, even for a Norwegian summer! The rise and fall of it is mesmerising. It’s got my eyes hooked, as does his belly button, the plains of his stomach, the edge of a nipple peeking out from a corner of his shirt, the sharp jut of his collarbone, the angle of his jaw. His lips. Soft. Incredibly soft… Thinking about them makes my mind fly back in time to last summer when they were against mine. I can’t have that so I stare at his legs instead. They're safe to look at, right? No harm in a little glance at them.

They are stretched out in front of him, super casual and barefoot. Even should be clumsy with how long his legs are but whenever he walks it is with purpose, like a guy who’s sure of himself and commands attention. And the hairs on his legs… I am trying to remember how they felt against me twelve months ago but I was overwhelmed with sensations at the time. EVERYTHING felt amazing.

If I were to run my hands over them would they feel soft, like rubbing feathers gently against my skin? Or maybe they’d feel coarser than that, like the hairs that have sprouted around my junk. How would it feel to have him against me?

He stretches out and I look away quickly.

“What’s on your mind?” He smiles.

I slow my beating heart. Think fast. Think normal non-sexual thoughts.

I say the first thing that pops to mind.

“I’m so full.” He chuckles so I add, “Okay I concede. You can cook.”

“An omelette doesn’t count.”

“It does to me. It was yummy.”

It was and it felt cool that he made breakfast just for us.

“Thanks.” He says.

Why is my heart still racing? Why am I feeling such warm feelings towards him? Intense feelings. Unshakable feelings. It’s a year on and I was sure I had gotten over him. I can't go back to having serious feelings for him. I won't be made a fool of again. I've got to remember what kind of guy he is and what I saw last summer between him and that girl, Iben. Their kiss minutes after he told me,

_‘I really like you. I’m not playing.’_

But he _was_ playing me and those words taunted me for months after.

The truth is I am still attracted to him so I have to be careful. I mustn't get sucked in by him again. Especially since I STILL LIKE EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM … well… apart from the cheating scumbag part of him.

I love the way he talks. That deep sexy drawl, slow and relaxed, but saying things that are precise, insightful and silly. The way he thinks; open and without preconception or judgement. The way he interacts with people. His ability to get on with EVERYBODY. His look. That preppy thing that he has going on that feels old school yet fresh at the same time... I low key love it. And his body, I could stare at every inch of it all day like a predator salivating over his prey.

I can list a million and one things that I like about him but the thing I like the most is that for a few weeks each year he comes back to the village and every time my life feels better. My heart is full. My happiness reaches an eleven on a scale of one to ten. He becomes the focus of my attention and I become the focus of his.

Last year, I fooled myself into believing that I mattered to him above all else: not the way a brother matters to a brother or a friend to another. I started to imagine that maybe Even could be my soulmate.

It's laughable when I think about it now. Those were the thoughts of a child. Now I’m a whole year older and wiser. I know it’s a ridiculous fantasy.

When we were friends things weren’t layered and complicated. So all I want now is for us to go back to how we were before we hooked up. That’s all and I think I can do that because Eva and I remained best friends after I kissed her. It is doable. The difference is that I know that being friends with Even will be harder. Unlike with Eva, when he touches me I burst into flames. It’s as if the energy of millions of shooting stars courses through my body.

If he touched me now how would I respond? Could I control my feelings for him? I could put it to the test. Do some research.

The hypothesis: I can be _just_ friends with Even.

The test: Get Even to touch me and assess my response.

The methodology: Get him to rub sunscreen on me and then see what happens.

The outcome measures: One or more of these outcomes will prove the hypothesis: 1) I do NOT love his touch 2) I do NOT get turned on by his touch 3)  I do NOT want him to kiss me/hook up with me 4) I do NOT want to kiss him/hook up with him.

“My skin is on fire.” I say.

I close my eyes and run the palm of my hand over my chest. Slowly. In my head, against my will, my hand becomes his. His fingers trail a path down my sun-scorched skin, damp with sweat, until they hit the material of my swimming trunks.

“I should probably put more sunscreen on.” I whisper.

“Here.”

I hear a thud next to me and open my eyes to see the sunscreen bottle next to my hip, tossed to me from where Even is sitting. He hasn't moved an inch.

I am not disappointed. NOT AT ALL. Good. It means that he thinks we are _just_ friends too. PERFECT.

I look over at him and he has a lopsided smile on his face.

“Aren’t you going to put it on?” he asks.

“Too tired.”

“It won’t apply itself, Isak.”

_I know._

I shrug. “I know.”

I don’t want him to look at me the way he did last year at his pool party. When we were in the back garden, staring at Orion together. I DON’T. HONESTLY. Or when we were in his kitchen and he kissed me. I DON’T MISS THAT AT ALL. I don’t want him to EVER AGAIN look at me with the intensity he did when we tumbled into his room and he took off my top. No. I took my own top off because Even was taking too long. Then I pushed him to his bed and he smiled at me knowingly because he knew I craved him and he kissed me and looked at me like he had never looked at me before. I DON'T NEED HIM TO LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT.

Even as I think this I know that I am lying to myself.

I want him and I miss it and I crave him.

“Can’t have you catching skin cancer on my watch.” He says.

“Dramatic.” _So do something about it._

He walks over to me. My heart kicks into overdrive and I get butterflies already.

He stands right over me, feet either side of my hips so that he casts a shadow on me. It cools me down. A welcome break from the direct sun rays.

I shield my eyes and look up at him. “Eclipse.”

When he leans over my breath hitches. It’s his nearness and the expectation it brings. He picks up the sunscreen and holds it out to me. “Please put some on. I don’t want you to get burned.”

“I won’t.” I say.

I make no move to take the bottle from him.

I have wound myself into so many knots when it comes to Even that I don't know whether I am flirting or not. And I can’t read his expression. His sunglasses aren’t helping.

He uncaps the bottle and pours some cream into his palm.

_YES!_

Then he rubs it leisurely over his chest and arms.

_NO!_

“You want some?” He asks.

I nod.

He tips the bottle and squeezes it. A drizzle of protective liquid droplets fall onto me leaving white splatter marks on my body. I look at the abstract art work on my torso then up at him.

He drops to his knees without warning. Straddles me so that his inner thighs and bum are against my legs. I swallow hard.

He leans forward, hovering over me with his hands on the ground either side of me and I forget to breathe.

“Have you lost the use of your hands?” He asks.

“Yeah.”

“It's a good job mine are working fine.” He murmurs.

I nod.

He uses a single finger to smear the fluid drops around, meandering over my chest and stomach slowly. He then uses his whole hand to spread the cream evenly until it's a uniform white layer on my skin. His touch is an electric current. Where he’s in contact with me I feel a charge and blistering heat that spreads through me. He is pure fire.

He is penning something on me. Using me like his white board. Upside down I read, ‘EVEN’ in capital letters.

He smiles at me so I smile back and say,

“That's not my name.”

He pauses before saying, “I know.”

He rubs it out. His hands trace my skin, covering me up in an even layer of sun protection again.

He can touch me anywhere he wants. That is what I want to tell him.

_I don't mind. I won't stop you._

He rubs it over my face, my ears, tickles the back of them (makes me smile). He’s glides over my shoulders, arms and my hands, links our fingers. All intertwined and mutters,

“Can't have you get finger skin cancer.”

I nod.

Then he’s back on my chest again, unnecessarily. But I won't complain. I'll just try not to arch my back when he rubs against me, skimming my nipples, sending a shooting thrill through my body.

His voice is raspy when he orders,

“Turn over.”

He gets off me then gets back on me the second I am on my front. I keep my hands by my side, rest my head on the towel staring at the blue undulations of the water in the pool. The cool flow of cream hits the centre of my back and his hands are on me again. I immediately relax.

“You've got lots of freckles on your back.” He caresses up my spine like the beginnings of a massage. “Did you know that?”

I close my eyes and say, “No.”

He fans his hands out to my sides. Circling motions. Up my neck and down. All over.

This is my heaven.

“They’re like constellations, especially here.” He leans over me to reach my shoulders and skims over them with both hands. It's delicious tactile pressure and his voice is a gentle warm breeze in my ear.

I grin. “You're just saying that because I like space stuff.”

“Partly.”

He straightens up and his hands track lower, slowly, slipping over me, marking the ups and downs of the plains of my back until they reach the small of it. I feel my groin stir- _shit, no please don't, dick_ \- so I shuffle to get myself better situated, untrap my junk, arch my back, hope Even doesn’t notice why.

I accidentally make contact with him with my bum.

“Stop.” Even rests a firm hand on my lower back, pinning me down.

“What?” I murmur.

“Nothing.” He gets off me. “I'm done.”

Oh.

I have never felt more disappointed. “Okay. Thanks.”

“I've got to take a leak.” He stands up and turns away almost immediately. “If you want you may jump in the pool. I'll join you in a sec.”

I look at him as he runs towards the house. When I am sure he won't turn back I sit up and throw my beach towel over my crotch. I don’t need to see my arousal to know that I have failed on all outcome measures of my experiment. Which means I DO love Even’s touch and I DO get turned on by it and I DO want him to kiss me/hook up with me and I DO want to kiss him/hook up with him.

So today, if he doesn’t come onto me then I know I’ll have to make the first move.

 

+++

 

**This Summer- Isak- 20th June**

 

I snap out of my daydream, the memory of a few days ago. It may as well be a lifetime ago because last night I decided to reset my relationship with Even to default settings.

We are back to being friends. So I need to stop thinking about him in any other way. I need to stop having him occupy so much space in my mind. Like now, for example, while there is a lull in customers waiting to be served I shouldn’t be thinking about what he might be doing. Or if he has already set off for Oslo? Would he really do that without telling me?

I pick up my phone, stare at it and put it away. Pick it up. Hope that it will suddenly start ringing. EVEN CALLING. That would be incredible. I'd be super chill when I answer of course. One hundred percent laid back and in the friend zone.

I can’t stop my fingers from texting.

 

_Hi. I’m working at the coffee_

_shop today. What are you up_

_to?_

 

I press send...

...And I hear an incoming message alert beep in front of me.

I look up.

“Hi.”

Oh hell.

Oh fuck.

It’s Even!

He looks at his phone as he approaches the counter I am standing behind.

Why has my heart kick started like that? Why am I smiling like an idiot. It’s just Even. My _friend_. No big deal. I’m totally chill about the fact that he is still in the village and hasn’t left like Eva said he might. I am completely okay and unexcited about the fact that he looking like a fucking movie star, with his confident gait, dark shades, perfect hair  and with his clothes on point.

He’s killing me right now with his smile.

“Hi.” I say. Did my voice sound as squeaky to him as it did to me? If so I want to be dead.

He shows me his phone’s screen as he settles his elbow on the counter, leans over.

“In answer to your question, I’ve come round to see you.”

“Oh.”

He looks around the shop, at the customers sitting inside. At the glimpse of those in the seating area outside. “I didn't know this place opened.”

I lean over the counter too. “Yesterday. I spent the day here helping dad and some workers with final touches.”

“It’s very cool, Isak.”  He nods. “This place. Feels like you.”

I feel warm. Coated by his flattery. I point at the wooden tables and chairs. They were made with local product and by a woodworker in the village; one of the dad’s of a kid I go to school with. Chucky furniture. Hard-wearing. Unique. Unvarnished but oiled. Simple and unfussy but sturdy, like me. “I picked the seating and chose the colour of the walls so, yeah. Thanks.” I am trying to impress him. Ridiculous. “Do you really like it?”

“It’s beautiful.”

“I know.”

He laughs. “Modest.” He nudges his head towards the main door. “By the way, there were three buses behind me on the road headed this way. You’ll have your work cut out for you soon. Is anyone working with you today?”

“No.” I groan. “Are you kidding me?”

“No.”

“Like tour coaches?”

He nods.

All I can think about is how long it takes to make one drink using this fucking beast of a coffee maker that dad got. I am still not slick with it, this is going to be a disaster.

Through the windows I can see the first bus pull up.  In the height of summer this isn’t unusual. People come in droves to trek and kayak. Others come to enjoy the postcard quality of the village as part of a cruise stop. The guys coming off the buses look like…

“Trekkers.” Even says, looking in the same direction I am.

“Yeah.” I agree. “Fuck. I’ll need Mari’s help.”

“Where is she?”

“Next door. Kayak shop.” I groan again when I realise the flaw in my plan. She can’t leave the other shop unattended.

He smiles. “I can help you here.”

He _bwinks_. Cute… but also, “Huh?”

“I’ll help serve your customers.”

Even? Working? Making coffees? Lol! Whatever. He must have smoked some of Tore’s shit before coming here… He must also have the ability to read my inner monologue because he says,

“I'm good at it.” He gives me a lopsided grin, rolls up the sleeves of his designer shirt and rounds the counter to join me.

I scrunch my face, drop my jaw. Equal parts doubtful and surprised.

He slings on an apron with the shop’s logo and whispers, “You better close your mouth before a fly gets in there. Also you’ll worry the punters.” He nudges me playfully.

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious right now.” I mumble, as the first wave of customers stream into the shop.

He raises and lowers his eyebrows. “Dead serious.”

I cross my arms in a challenging manner, give him a cocky smile. “Okay then. Make a cappuccino.”

“For you?”

I nod.

“In this weather?”

I nod again. “Are you stalling?”

“No. Your wish. My command.” He grins.

Without missing a beat he starts fixing my order. It is obvious, straight away, that he has done this before. Even the way he handles the cup and saucer is practiced. He places them next to the coffee machine. He purges the steamer and gets a double espresso shot percolating. Steams and froths up some milk. Pours the milk on top of the coffee shot so that the drink is equal parts coffee, then steamed milk then foam milk.

Then, completely unnecessarily, he does some latte art at the end. Not that I can see the design yet. Show off.

 

                      

 

“Done.”

He hands me the cup and I look down at it.

 

                      

 

Wha-

It’s a heart. A fucking heart.

I look up at him.

“It’s the only design I can do.” He whispers.

Oh. I take a sip.

“So have I passed?”

Delicious.

“Yes.”

 

+

 

It feels like hundreds of orders later before we finally get to closing time. Then Even helps me clean and lock up. I fist pump him- bro fist- when we are done.

“Thanks for helping.”

“Any time.”

He collapses into one of the chairs at a table while I lock the last door, drops the dish cloth he was using to wipe up and closes his eyes.

“Do you want a coffee?” I tease him.

He shakes his head and groans. “Please don’t say the word coffee around me ever again! And here I was thinking Oslo coffee shops were busy!”

I giggle and sit opposite him. I feel so fucking happy right now. We worked well together. We naturally fell into roles. I took the orders, payments and organized the food. Even made ALL the drinks, hot and cold, and threw in banter with the customers. They loved him. Why wouldn’t they? He has a way about him. It’s everything about him. Sitting like he is now I can see it; the way he is sprawled on my furniture. He looks cool and sexy. Did I say sexy? I meant relaxed.

“You look relaxed.” I tell him.

He springs open an eye and then both of them. “I am. I’m happy.”

“Yeah?”

He nods.

“No anxiety?”

“No anxiety.”

“Cool. I am really happy too.” I grin because I mean it. He has no idea how much. “Tell me how come you’re a proper barista who can do fancy latte designs?”

P.S. I saw him do more designs than just hearts…

 

                   

 

                   

 

“Guess.”

“You watched a YouTube tutorial.”

“Ha!”

“Don’t tell me… your parents own a coffee shop franchise.”

He laughs. “No. But that’s a great business idea!”

“What is it then?”

“Until a few days ago I worked part time at a coffee shop in Oslo.”

I laugh until I realise that he’s not kidding.

“You’re being serious.” I raise a sceptical eyebrow.

“Is it so unbelievable?”

“You never told me.” I frown.

“I knew I’d get one of your eye rolls if I did.”

“I wouldn't have eye rolled!”

“You would.”

“Okay, maybe a little.” Because if he had told me I would have probably thought he was trying to ‘get on my level’. A way of saying ‘see, you and I are exactly alike. I might be rich but I work... like a normal person!’

MAJOR EYE ROLL.

“So you bussed tables, took orders, cleaned up?”

He nods.  “You name it.”

I feel like I need to recalibrate my impression of Even yet again. I have always known that he wasn't a typical spoiled rich brat I still saw him as pretty fucking entitled. This bit of news is further proof that I haven’t completely got a true measure of him.

“Why did you work there if you didn’t need to?”

“What makes you think I don’t need to?”

I look at him incredulously. “Do I need to remind you who your parents are?”

“No. But that’s my parent’s success not mine. I work because I want to be able to provide for myself. I want to wake up knowing that there is a point to me being here. I want to feel like I am contributing and that I add value to this world, you know. I don’t want to ever be considered a leech.”

I smile because Even is adorable when he is being earnest. “You’ll make a great colleague and boss when you start working at _BN_.”

He scoffs.

“I am basing it on how you have been with me all these years.”

I look at him and he looks back at me and I fall into his clear blue eyes. They make me go red hot. Fuck. It’s my neck and ears. I know that they’ve pinked up, making me look like a freak.

“How have I been with you all these years?” Even whispers.

I cover an ear and turn the other away from him slightly. Subtle.

“You’ve been the best. Loyal. Interested... and interesting. Caring. Protective. Instructive. Fun. Everything really.” I dare to glance at him but my neck and ears are still on fire so I shift the topic of conversation away from flattery. “Anyway, I guess we’re done here, huh? I’m probably holding you up.”

“I don’t have to be anywhere right this minute.”

He is looking at me strangely. Not smiling.

I wonder whether it’s because I gave too much away with my words. Or my stupid burning ears and neck gave me up. Or have my true feelings for him leaked through my friendly mask? I should avert my gaze but part of me wants to get caught out and have Even know that when he is with me he is everything. His face. His eyes. His body. His presence. He is a magnet whose field I can’t escape. Everything else around us fades to black.

“I came over today because I wanted to tell you something.” He says suddenly. He has a determined look on his face. “It’s something I should have told you last night after what you said. I didn’t because I didn’t want to make things worse at the time… but, fuck it. I want to tell you.”

I feel a lump in my throat. Here it is. Just like he told Eva, he’s about to tell me that he is peacing out of the village. This is the beginning of the end of us. Soon we’ll both be too old to cling onto the memories that once bound us. We’ll go our separate paths and, with time, we’ll lose touch.

Even cuts through my train of thoughts. “... I need to tell you then you can decide-”

“I know what you are going to say.” I blurt out.

He looks surprised. “Yeah?”

I nod and smile. Try to make light of it. “Eva told me already. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?”

“Eva?”

“Yeah. You’re leaving today, right?”

“What?” Something dawns on him. “Oh. No. Yeah. I mean-”

“Cool. Are you going to do something nice with the rest of your holiday?” I don’t wait for his reply because I don’t need to feel the pain of hearing about whatever it is that he ranks above celebrating my landmark birthday with me here. “I was thinking how this is the last summer we’ll have like this, where we both have summer breaks. Things will change when you start working.” He frowns but I’m on a roll. Protecting my heart by delaying the moment where he gets to speak. “Thanks for coming over to say bye though. And sorry for making you work.  You probably thought you’d be on the road by now-”

He grips my forearm. Firmly. To stop my verbal diarrhoea. His touch is an electric current on my skin.

“Shut up.”

“Don’t tell me to shut up.”

“That’s not what I wanted to say to you.”

“It’s not?” My mouth is dry. Fuck. How much worse can it be than him leaving?

“No. Jesus!” He gives me a small smile and lightens his grip. His fingers trace down my arm until his hand rests over my own which is palm down on the table.

“No.” He whispers and curls my hand in his.

Someone is trying to open the back door. A moment later a key goes into the lock. I pull my hand away from Even’s just as the door swings open.

“Dad!” I say. A little too enthusiastically. I stand too quickly and turn away from Even.

“Hi Fredrik.” Even says. In my peripheral vision I can see that he has stood up too.

“Hi.” Dad’s eyes oscillate between Even and me. “I didn’t know you two were still in here?”

“Even helped me here for the last few hours when things got busy. We just finished tidying up.”

Dad raises an eyebrow at Even. “How did you get roped in?”

Even stuffs his hands into his pockets and shrugs. “I was just passing by minding my own business… on my way to getting an ice cream when Isak captured me as his slave… and forced me into labour...”

I eye roll and smile sweetly at him. “He’s joking, dad. He offered to help. Three tour buses turned up all at once. THREE!”

Dad smiles good-naturedly.

“Thanks, Even. Sounds like Isak owes you one.”

Excuse me? What?

“Actually, I owe you one.”

Better.

“Why don’t you come over and join us for dinner tonight? Say seven-ish?”

Dad does come up with good ideas.

 _Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes._ I plead with my mind, willing Even.

“Tore’s brother is dropping off some fish at ours… freshly caught this afternoon. I was planning to throw them on the fire.” Dad adds.

I smile at Even. “Barbecue.”

He grins.

Dad looks at us. “What?”

“Isak is reminding me that I owe him a barbecue meal.” Even’s smile broadens. “He doesn’t think I can cook.”

“Except omelettes so far.” I concede. “And a really nice picnic.”

“Right. Well that’s perfect then.” Dad says. “I’ll run by the store to grab beers and salad and tonight you can prove my son wrong. Grill his fish.”

“Can you make it?” I ask.

“Yeah. Definitely.”

“Excellent. Are you coming, Isak?”

“Um.” I don’t want to leave Even yet, even though I’ll be seeing him in a few short hours, so I look around to find my excuse. “I am not yet done checking that the pantry is, you know, that it’s stocked for tomorrow.”

“I thought you did already.” Even says.

Fuck’s sake, Even!

“Yeah. But not properly.”

Dad nods slowly. “It does need a proper check.”

“So I can hitch a ride with him. With Even” I turn to him. “If that’s okay.”

“That’s perfect.”

 

+

 

This is perfect. This evening. It is the official eve of my adulthood. The day before the big one-eight.

Dad is being chatty for dad. We get the fire lit early and wait for the flames to simmer down ready for the grilling. While waiting, we hang outside. Dad gets some music and beers going for the three of us. Even gets the salad ready and I finish prepping the fish.

I moan about it.

“How come I’ve got the shittiest job...” I slice a line along the belly of a fish with a sharp knife and use my fingers to pull its gut contents out, “... literally.” and then rinse the cavity under water before setting it aside.

“I bought them. Even descaled and beheaded them. This is your bit. You’re so good at it.” Dad says. “He used to beg to have a go when he was a kid.” He tells Even. “Weird child.”

“Gross child.” Even shakes his head.

I look at him as I pick up the next fish. I flop it onto the wooden chop board, look at him again meaningfully, slice it down its middle and then look at him a final time as I pull its contents out.

He laughs. “Threatening!”

I lift my knife at him. “I have very good knife skills.”

“Noted.”

“So what are you going to do with the fish?” I ask while rinsing and repeating.

“You’ll see.”

What he does is unload the shopping bag full of groceries we got on the way home that he said were for the fish. He chops, slices and dices. He puts the three fish, good sized trout caught just a few miles away, onto individual foil rectangles. Then he makes a rub made out of olive oil, salt and black pepper, and chopped green herbs.

I look at him curiously so he says, “Dill, watercress and parsley.”

He coats the fish in it, inside and out with his bare hands then stuffs the hole I created with black pitted olives and halved cherry tomatoes. Buries them deep. I am salivating already.

He places the three fish, still on their individual foil sheets onto the hot grill.

“Careful.” I whisper.

 

             

 

“Worried I’ll burn myself?”

“No.”

He throws sliced lemons, capers and finely chopped fennel over the top of the fish.

“Why couldn’t you have done that on the table?”

“I want the fish to get a bit of a char before it steams. Adds flavour.”

My stomach grumbles. Even turns to me and smiles. I hadn’t noticed that I was practically leaning over his shoulder.

“Hungry?”

I nod.

He scans my face. “Same.”

After a few minutes he closes the foil up around each fish using oven mitts creating parcels.

“How long do we have to wait?”

“As long as necessary until they’re ready.”

“Sounds like forever.”

“I hope not.” Then he goes. “Shit! I forgot the wine!” He opens the parcels again and pours a splash of white wine over each one and reseals. He looks back at me.

“So now we wait.”

“Cool.”

Dad’s looking at us. Not like staring but kind of staring but subtler. Even’s noticed too.

“Could you get me a glass of water?” He asks.

“Yeah sure. Dad?”

He nods too.

I run into the house and go to the bathroom first. Not that I need to go. I just need a quick word with myself.

I look in the mirror above the sink.

“Okay. You are being totally cool. Totally normal. Dad didn’t notice anything. Keep going.” I smell my fingers. I have washed them three times since handling the fish but I can still faintly smell it on them. Gross. I soap and wash my hands again. I smell my armpits. Cool. I look at my chest, tummy and shoulders through the mirror. I am peeling ever so slightly over the right shoulder so I pick at it. I adjust my snap back. “Don’t stand too close to Even. Don’t stare at him. Just be normal.”

Pep talk done.

I run to the kitchen. Run back out into the garden. Stop still when I see dad and Even whispering to each other, Dad’s hand on Even’s shoulder, their bodies turned away from me and then my dad giving him a one armed hug and a brisk pat on the back.

The fuck.

“I got your waters.” I say.

They pull apart like guilty men with guilty secrets.

Even gives me a small grin. “Great. Thanks.”

Dad takes a small sip and puts it down. He wasn’t thirsty.

I sit down in my favourite chair and get a feeling of foreboding. What were they talking about? Was it me? Was it? Somehow was it about Even and me and us? Or actually…

“Were you talking about my birthday?” I lean forward.

“Such ego.” Even says.

“It was, wasn’t it?” My smile is smug.

“I am saying nothing.” Dad says.

 

+

 

Food, drink and good chat. I have enjoyed them all. After hours in each other’s company Dad stands up in defeat and says, “I’m going to bed. Even, you have destroyed me. That meal.” He nods appreciatively.

“Thanks.”

“Stay over if you like.” Dad adds.

He looks at me and I look down at the grass and loosely hold my third beer of the evening in one hand. Can not risk giving away my emotional state right now.

Dad hasn’t mentioned the spare room so I do. “We have a spare room.”

“Right.” Even says.

Why did I mention the spare room? He has always stayed in my room when we have had sleepovers. I am being weird. Not normal. I hope dad and Even don’t notice.

Dad comes up to me and gives my forehead a kiss. “I’ll make you breakfast in the morning. An Isak Special. Never too old for those.”

“Yes!” I am excited even though I am full to bursting right now because that’s my favourite. Simple pancakes smothered in fresh chopped strawberries that have been allowed to stew in shitloads of sugar and a squeeze of lemon.

“'Night, soon to be birthday boy.”

“'Night, Dad.”

 

+

 

When Even and I are alone it’s as though the tension between us, that Dad had managed to keep a lid on by being around, comes back with a vengeance.

I handle it by talking loads. About the fact that Eva and Jonas are arranging a surprise birthday thing for me. About Mahdi getting a girlfriend. About figuring out what I am going to do with Evan come the end of summer. Will he come with me to Oslo or stay here with dad? Depends on where I stay. In fact I need to figure out my accommodation sooner rather than later. Mum has offered me to stay with her and that would be much cheaper but I kind of want to have the complete student experience so Eva and me are thinking about a place in a student house. I think out loud about whether Uni is going to agree with me. I figure that the social aspect, not so much. The learning aspect, brilliantly.

“Aren’t you cold?” Even asks.

Now he mentions it. A little. With the sun completely gone and a light breeze building up. I look down at my stomach. Goosebumps.

“A little.”

He looks almost relieved. He stands up, takes off his shirt off revealing a vest underneath and passes it to me. I put it on and wrap it around me rather than doing up the buttons. Too lazy. It smells of him more than it smells of fish but I still say,

“Smells fishy.”

He raises an eyebrow so I give the sleeve a sniff.

Goddamn it. That was a mistake. Fuck! That scent that clings to it recalls every touch and graze that he has laid on me in affection. I smell it again and bring my feet up onto the chair so that my legs are folded and my knees can act as a table for my arms and I can keep inhaling his shirt’s scent.

“You like the smell of fish?”

I nod into the sleeve.

He rubs his face as if thinking and thinking hard. He stands up.

“Where are you going?”

“I think I need to get going.”

“Stay.” I plead immediately. I don’t ever want him to leave me.

“Not a good idea, Isak. I don't think me being here is a good idea.”

I think I know what he is saying. And at the same time I don’t.

“In the spare room. You can stay there.” I sniff his shirt and beg. “Please.”

 

+

 

**This Summer- Isak- June 21st**

 

Midnight.

It’s my birthday.

And I am wide awake. For the last two years at this moment dad has burst into my room with a lit cake and sang to me. Before that it was mum and him. But this year he hasn’t and I wonder why. Is this part of being an adult?

I sit up.

Unsurprisingly, I don’t feel different than I did a few moments ago… I was born at 9:21 in the evening so if I’m being pedantic I haven’t actually turned eighteen yet.  Not that the calendar is accurate anyway. Goodness knows at what exact moment I actually 'come of age'.

The point is that there is so much weight put on the number and it seems silly to me. I know people older than me who are far more immature (looking at you Tore). And yet, because I have reached a random number, managed to survive 18 years on this Earth, I suddenly have all the rights and responsibilities of a competent adult. At fifteen I could be held personally responsible for any crimes I committed. At sixteen I was considered old enough to have consensual sex and get married with my parents consent but I have been a half citizen until today. Now I can learn to drive. I can vote. I can legally drink.

But it means nothing yet. I haven't committed a crime, I haven't had sex, as in gone all the way. I haven't wanted to get married. I haven't voted. I haven't learned to drive. Getting older means nothing if I don't start _behaving_ like it. And I don't feel like I am. I still do not feel fully formed. When will I start to feel like I have arrived? Like I am the man that I am?

Maybe being an adult is about starting to own oneself. Not waiting for things to happen but doing things for yourself. Not being coached but taking the first step. Not being a passive passenger in life but being the active captain of one’s ship. It’s about no longer hiding behind childish excuses, thoughts and fears and taking bold leaps about oneself and taking responsibility.

I stand up and walk to the cupboard near my bedroom door. I take a deep breath and open it up; reach under the pile of socks. I don’t ask myself any questions. Questions are futile now. I spend my life asking too many questions and overanalyzing. It gets me nowhere half the time.

I take a condom. Just one. Slip it into the waistband of my briefs round the back. I pick up Even’s shirt and step out of my room.

The house is dark and completely silent. Dad’s room is upstairs luckily and the spare room is not far from mine, separated only by the bathroom. Still, I am quiet. I open its door and step in. It looks out onto the garden like mine does. Even has left the curtains and windows open so the light reflecting off the moon from the sun is bouncing in and the warm breeze of the night blows in.

Moonlight bathes his sleeping form.

But he’s not sleeping. He turns around slowly, deliberately, and stares at me. He doesn’t say anything. He looks me up and down.

I show him his shirt and whisper, “I didn’t want you to forget this.” He looks at it then looks at me so I add, “It’s my birthday now, so.”

“Happy birthday.”

“Well actually, it may not be my actual birthday yet but you know.” I shrug.

“Sure.”

I drop his shirt, close the door and take a step into the room.

“What are you doing here, Isak?”

I slowly walk towards the bed. “Why did you agree to stay?”

He doesn’t answer.

_Thought so._

I am not saying he has no say in the matter but I kind of need to get this adulting thing going and he's on my mind 24/7... so he’s the chosen one. The one who will have to help me get experience. Who will teach me something about a thing I know little about.

“I want to hang out.” I get onto the bed and gaze down at him. He has had a shower and he smells of my shower gel and shampoo. “With you.” I lay my hand gently on his neck and he frowns.

I feel his pulse there.

"Your hearts beating quickly." I straddle him and it kicks up a notch. I shake my head. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

I run my hand down his body. He grabs my wrist when I get to his crotch and pulls it off him but I have found out enough. He is getting hard.

I lean over and kiss him. A brush of lips. A sigh of shared breaths. A caress of tongues.

“I thought you wanted us to be friends.” He murmurs.

I am not thinking. I can’t. Not right now. So I whisper, “Yes.” Then. “No.” Then “Maybe.”

I kiss him. I kiss him because not kissing him feels like a pointless existence. I wrap my arms around him because not doing so feels like a void as big as a black hole. I press myself to him because not feeling him against me feels like grief.

I now know that friendship is not enough. That it will never be enough. Not for me. Not when it comes to Even.

I delight in the feeling of his hands on me; of the graze of his fingers on my skin, moving lower, over the dip of my lower back and the swell of my bum as we kiss. He grabs handfuls of my bum and kisses me deep. Kisses me as I kiss him. I kiss him and remember everything about us and forget everything else. Is this what people mean when they say explosive, electric, incandescent, mind-blowing? It’s all those things and more. And when I think about it I have to wonder how Even could have been in my life all this time and yet I didn’t see him. Like the moon that is shining down on us, he has been right here but I didn’t really appreciate what he was and is to me.

I see it now. I do. He is my life.

I wanted to squash my life because after what happened last year, after the pain he caused to my heart, I was scared. I came close to trading living life to merely surviving. So maybe this is adulting; knowing that when shit happens, bad shit, you pick yourself up, you learn, you get better, you forgive, you get stronger and you do not run away.

You live.

He skirts his hands up me again, up my legs, makes me shudder, over my buttocks, I push up into them. He passes over the square packet that he missed on the way down to copping a feel of my bum. It pinches into my skin as he looks at me curiously.  He dips his fingers into my waistband, grabs it between index and middle finger and hovers it between us. I have lost shame and guilt and coyness along the way. Maybe that, too, is part of Adult Isak.

I hold his gaze and give him a small smile.

I want us to connect physically in a way that I know we have connected emotionally and intellectually.

I want him to have me. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They'll be a change in format with the next chapter... we are coming close to an end!


	14. The One Where Isak Gets Some, Fredrik Stops Playing Dumb and Even Is Dead Meat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Written and visual nudity. Prose of a sexual nature. NSFW.  
> (How come I have a feeling that for some of you this is less a warning and more an invitation?!)
> 
> Chapter mood-  
> Stir it up- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eZ3eA5gxiLs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Horny, happy Isak. Horny, worried Even.

**This Summer- Even**

 

I am a fool. That is why I have ended up in Isak’s spare room a.k.a. Hell, because he may as well be on another planet despite being just a few feet away, down the corridor.

I woke up this morning with an epiphany; with the ‘smart’ idea that I could talk to him and make him see sense; that friendship wasn’t going to cut it for either of us. That we can do better than that. We are better together. So I went to the kayak shop and found him next door in the coffee shop. It became clear, straight away, that he was moving on already. The newly opened shop emphasized the message. Times change and things move on quickly. He was one hundred percent committed to friendzoning me.

I am cursed when it comes to friendships that develop into more so I should have known not to go to find him. I should have turned down Fredrik's invitation to have dinner with them. And when we finished eating, when Fredrik went to bed, I should have said goodnight and left. Because all Isak has to give me is friendly chat full of friendly indifference while I battle my unrelenting and futile craving for him. It doesn’t help that his summer look is wearing nearly nothing. He is distractingly attractive. Unbearably so.

I should have gone home but I didn't. I couldn’t say no to him when he asked me to stay.

 _Friend_.

Fuck.

I curl up in bed and look at the spare bedroom's door. It would take maybe four steps to get to it. Then another ten or so to get to his room. Then a further four to get to his bed. If I wanted to wish him happy birthday when the clock strikes midnight.

What would be the harm?

I could do that. It would be friendly of me.

“Happy birthday, Isak.”

That’s it. That’s all I’d say. And maybe I'd give him a hug too.

“Happy eighteenth birthday, mate.”

 _Mate_.

That’s better. I wouldn't hug him for too long or too firmly. I definitely wouldn't inhale or think about the fact that he is against me. I categorically WOULD NOT FEEL.

“Hope you have a great day today.”

I could add that if I felt the need to say anything more then I’d stand up and take eighteen steps back to this room.

I look at my watch. 23.37 becomes 23.43 becomes 23.57 becomes 23.59.

When the clock strikes midnight I do nothing. I can’t trust myself to be casually friendly with him when I am alone with him.

Case in point 1- the coffee shop when I nearly blurted out that I wanted us to date.

Case in point 2- his garden earlier, when I felt unable to look at him without wanting to have him and had to cover him up with my shirt.

I turn over and look out at the trees that line the perimeter of the garden outside.

 

                       

 

It’s deathly quiet everywhere, so unlike my apartment in Oslo where even the night’s silence has sound, the hum of people in the street chatting, cars whizzing below, electrical equipment switching on and off.

This silence lends itself to thinking.

  1. Tomorrow I’ll get up early, wish Isak a happy birthday and say bye to Martin.
  2. I’ll head home and get ready to leave the village.
  3. I’ll pop over here again on my way out of the village to give Isak his birthday present and to say goodbye.
  4. I’ll take a break from him, long enough to kill the feelings I have for him.
  5. Days, weeks or maybe months from now, I’ll call him and I’ll be the friend that he wants and needs.



My thoughts are interrupted by a sound outside my room. A creak of floorboards that comes closer. I know it’s Isak even before the door opens and I turn to face him.

He comes in like an apparition; a dream that I have summoned. He’s stripped down, in boxer briefs, presumably since his trip to the shower earlier. His hair is still a little damp and his face is playing every emotion he's experiencing. No filter. There is determination there and strength as he looks at me.

What. Is. He. Doing. Here?

“You okay?” I ask.

He nods. “Yeah. I didn’t want you to forget this.”

The shirt I gave him earlier is in his hands.

“It’s my birthday now, so.” He drops the shirt to the floor.

“Happy birthday.”

Still doesn't explain why he is here though.

“Well actually, it may not be my actual birthday yet but you know.”

“Sure.”

Solar vs Gregorian. Truth vs fallacy. I get it.

He closes the door behind him. It’s click is loud and definitive, locking us in. What are the acoustics in this place. Can his dad hear us from upstairs?

“What are you doing here, Isak?” I whisper.

“Why did you agree to stay tonight?”

Good question but he doesn’t need to hear the answer. That I am here because I am clinging onto hope. I know that makes me delusional. He couldn't have been clearer about what he wants out of us.

He walks towards the bed and gets on it. His knee shoves against my thigh as he sits next to me. His gaze is steady. His eyes are soft but his body is tense with anticipation.

Slowly his fingers curl around my neck. A logical human being would jump into self defense. But there's something in the way he’s touching me, curiously and delicately, that relaxes me rather than freaks me out. He’s charged. Primed. Every cell in his body is humming with pent up energy. He glides his fingers across my throat and presses into my neck and it dawns on me. I know _exactly_ what he’s doing.

“I want to hang out.” He shakes head. Autocorrects. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

The way he says that. The way he looks at me while saying that, it's an injection of adrenaline.

His words are bold but his hand is bolder. He runs it down my body, the heat of it scorching my skin until he stops at my crotch and lightly grips my dick through my underwear, holds it like his own possession. Brushes against it feeling its length. Such a teasing touch but so casual as if he has done it a thousand times before when the reality is he has never touched me like this before.

He isn’t trying to turn me on. He’s checking to see how I'm feeling about his advances. It's why he checked my carotid pulse. To see if I'm turned on or not by him.

_Pointless research, Isak. Isn’t it obvious._

His actions confuse me.

“I thought you wanted us to be friends.” I murmur.

He smiles and gets on top of me. He leans over and kisses me. So softly. So gently. Like a secret or a promise.  It pulls me in and he kisses me again, a press of mouth to mouth.

“Yes.” He whispers then, “No.” Then... “Maybe.”

His indecision now and his words from last night give me pause.

_‘I think, maybe, actually definitely, we should just be friends.’_

Isak doesn’t know what he wants but does it matter when at least he knows that he wants _this… me… now_? Does it matter when he is kissing me? An eternal number of kisses. Each one heaped with persuasion. His lips here, there and everywhere; my face, neck, hair, torso, shoulders, arms. A cloak of kisses. A flutter of passion, sexual heat and healing warmth. His doubt doesn’t matter to me because I want him too. I haven't ever been embraced like he embraces me now, as if my whole being is being moulded and blended with his. I have never been looked at the way he is looking at me; as though he has found answers in my eyes that he has been searching for his whole life.

He is too good to be true. He is flooring me with his beauty. Shaking me up and stuttering my brain. I take him in. Sun kissed blond locks, flushed smooth skin, long limbs and hard cock tenting his briefs. Presented to me without hesitation. Pitch perfect for me as I explore his body. Perfect shape. Perfect lips. Perfect face. Perfect stomach. Perfect waist. Perfect bum. Perfect sounds coming from him; an erotic soundtrack for my ears when I touch him.

Tonight feels different to the other two times we have messed around. Isak is different. His skin zings under my touch. He is hot. Extra responsive. His breathing picks up when he rocks against me, rolls his hips. He rubs himself over my crotch and makes a discovery.

 _Careful_. I want to say. _Careful teasing my cock like that_.

Instead I grip his hips to still him and find a square packet under my hand, tucked under the waistband of his briefs. I pick it up and bring it in front of my eyes.

Isak looks at the condom then at me then sits up on me. 

“If you’re wondering, I’m pretty sure it’s in date.” No shame. He whispers that as if _that_ is the question that’s sprung to my mind.

What I’m actually wondering is, ‘ _So this is why you have come. You don’t want to just fool around. You want to have sex and you planned for it._ ’

He takes the condom from me and squints as he reads the packet in the dark. “Yeah. 2021. We can use it.”

He puts it to one side and rests his arms on my chest and rests his chin on his arms. “So…”

He reaches for my lips.

“Is this what you really want?” I ask before he can steal a kiss.

He can't blame me for not completely getting his one-eighty change of mind since yesterday.

“Yes.” He looks at me like I’m stupid.

“You make it sound like it’s obvious.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Have you forgotten last night?”

He pauses. “No. I haven’t.”

He plays with the fabric braided bracelets on my right wrist. Five of them; one handcrafted by each little niece of mine.

“You’re confusing.”

He kisses me. “Yes. I know.” He sighs and settles his arms under me; rests down on me as if he’s about to take a nap.

“But, like, friends can be lovers.” He murmurs. “And lovers can be friends.”

He kisses me again and again and I give in. I kiss him back. He is impossible to resist. I don't want to resist.

“Which are we more?” I whisper.

“Right now friends because we aren't lovers...” He gives me a small smile. He buries his face in my neck. “... yet.”

“Yet?”

He nods. “Can I confess something?”

I nod.

“I loved the smell of your shirt.”

“My fishy shirt?” I circle my arms around his waist.

“I was lying about the fishiness. It smelt of you. I like the smell of you.” He licks the angle of my jaw, sucks it lightly then sniffs me there. “Now you smell of me. My shower gel. I hate that.” He kisses my jaw. “But I like you.”

I smile. “I like you too.”

“No. I mean I really like you.” He whispers and wanders his hands over me. “Even when I didn’t like you I liked you.”

It’s my turn to kiss him because he is adorable.

He presses his lips to my ears and his body against mine. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” his voice is barely a whisper. “I thought you should know.”

What does he mean by that?

“I’ve done stuff but not…” He doesn’t finish the sentence but I can fill in the blank.

He hasn’t needed to use condoms before which means he hasn’t gone all the way. That’s cool. No big deal... other than now I feel an stupid level of responsibility to make sure that I blow his mind and not ruin sex for him for the rest of his life.

No fucking pressure.

“Thanks for letting me know.”

“You're welcome.”

He’s looks around and spots the condom. He picks it up and begins to tear the pack open.

“Wow.” I clasp my hand over his.

“What?”

I kiss the back of his hand.

He whispers, “Too soon?”

“Too soon.”

He visibly relaxes. I kiss his palm, then his wrist. He looks at me with such awe.

“Let's just take our time.” I give him a smile.

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Have you ever made stew?”

He scrunched his face up as though to say ‘as if!’.

“Oh yeah, I forgot you can't even make an omelette!” I tease.

He thumps me lightly.

“Aw!” I rub my arm, grin up at him then settle my hands on his thighs.

“Why do you ask?”

Must he look down at me like that and trace his hands over me like he is? Must he distract me when I'm about to make a point?

“Like making a stew you can't rush having sex, at least not at first.” I say. He looks confused so I explain, “Not if you want it to feel really good.”

I slowly flip him over. He lands on his back and grins up at me. “Here comes an 'Even analogy'.”

“You like analogies.”

“I do.”

“It’s important to take your time...” I whisper as I cover him. “...when making stew.”

He clings to me, strokes his legs against mine, pushes his fingers through my hair. He brings my face up close to his begging for a kiss. I raise his hands above his head suddenly. Pin them down to the bed. Kiss his armpit. He holds back a giggle. He’s ticklish, I know. When I lick it he peels with laughter and tries to pull away.

“To make the best stew, it needs time to build flavour.”

He sighs when I nibble the skin above his chest, over his heart, a light bite. Then a stronger one. The same on his neck until he is squirming.

He leans up to kiss me urgently but I shake my head.

“Patience.”

I kiss him languidly, close my eyes as our lips connect and his mouth melds with mine. He is so fucking hot that I am not sure if I can practice what I am preaching.

“I hate patience.” He whispers as he wraps his legs around my waist.

“Me too.” I kiss his cheek, his temple, his forehead, the tip of his nose. The centre of his chest. I pull back and press my hand over the thump of his heartbeat.

“Your leg hairs feel amazing. Soft. Like a woolly jumper.” He whispers as he rubs them up and down with his own.

There was a whole rabbit hole of thoughts that resulted in that comment.

“You feel amazing.” I say honestly.

I square him on the bed, get him centred and make out with him. I could make out with him forever.

I graze my thumb against one of his nipples and he gasps.

Interesting.

“You remember the stew that we were talking about?”

He nods vaguely, “The sex stew...”

“Yeah. It’s important to experiment with different ingredients. Figure out what we like and don’t like. What works and what doesn’t.”

I lick his nipple and he coils up to me, bows up to my touch and sighs with pleasure. So I lick him again and again until he’s moaning with need.

“Does that work?” I ask.

“Yes!”

His eyes are glazed over, lust filled. Gone. I keep going until he frees his hands and they rest on my head keeping me in place; my lips on his chest. He starts rubs himself against me, like a dog humping a bed post. Border Collie. He makes sounds that shoot straight to my dick. They change tone quickly; his breathing becomes erratic. He goes limp and pliant in my arms.

No. I am not about to have him cum in his briefs from frottage and a nipple lick so I push my hip off his cock and pull my lips from his nipples.

I kiss lower and lower, over his belly button. Below his belly button. I stroke a finger over his dick but it jumps at my lightest touch. He hisses and it pours out precum. He is so close. Too close. I can’t play with it now or he’ll cum.

“Turn around.”

He rolls flat onto his front. He looks back at me as I rest on top of him. He reaches up for a kiss and undulates up to me. I mirror his action. Go in for a kiss while pretending to fuck him. Close my eyes and imagine pushing into him slowly while my cock slides against his bum. I feel the friction of my hard dick against their bouncy slopes. He reaches back and grabs my ass, encourages the movement. If I tried to penetrate him now, unprepared, I would hurt him. I have learnt that since my first time doing this with a dude back in my first year of uni. In my naivete I went in hard and dry. It wasn’t appreciated.

I kiss Isak’s shoulder.

 

                      

 

This first time with him has to be something that creates a memory of burning need. Not the memory of a burning sensation caused by being ripped apart.

“Feels good.” He murmurs as he squeezes my bum with his hand, encouraging the push of my cock more firmly against him.

I kiss his neck, wet sloppy kisses that foreshadow what’s to come. I keep kissing him. His upper back and slowly down his spine. It’s partly a kiss partly a lick. I taste the salt of his skin, feel the heat of him and the little bumps, goosebumps that come up as I go lower. I get him used to the caress of my hands on his skin, the intimacy of my tongue.

 

                      

 

I follow the curve of his ass. Smooth and convex like a gentle sloping hill. When I squeeze it and then let it go it jiggles a little. When I stroke it, Isak sort of gyrates up to my touch. It's mesmerising. I push his underwear down, slowly. I get as far as his knees and he helps me get out of them. Lifts one leg then the other then flicks his briefs aside with his foot.

“What does this bit have to do with stew?” He whispers when he settles back on the bed. His face is resting on his arms so I can't see it but I can hear the smile in his voice.

He has these two dimples either side of his lower back at the top of his bum. They are perfect anchors. I press my thumbs into them and circle his hips. Lift them up off the bed. He stays in place and buries his face into the pillow with his ass in the air.

“Preparation.” I say.

“Huh?”

I kiss his bum, each side in turn. I rub my face against the bounciness of his bum cheeks. He grips the sheet and curls his toes.

I gently pull his ass cheeks apart and blow.

He shudders.

“Getting everything ready means the stew is easier to make.” I lightly rub my finger over his hole.

“Preparation.” He whispers into the pillow and arches his back.

I smile. Hussy.

“Are you going to look at me, Isak?”

“No.” He mumbles.

“Why?”

“Because my ass is in your face, Even, and that’s embarrassing. That’s why.”

But he glances back. For less than a split second. What he sees makes his ears and neck go an even brighter red than they already were, his whole body does.  I hold his gaze, as much as I can from where I am, and kiss him… there. He goes back to burying his face in the pillow.

This is a first for me. Doing this. But I want to. I crave doing this to him.

“If you want me to stop, just tell me.”

“Don't stop.”

So I lick him... there. And again.

“Don't stop.” He repeats. Quieter.

My touch is light at first, barely grazing his hole with the wet tip of my tongue. Then firmer more deliberate laps using the flat of it. He whimpers and bites his hand. It does unspeakable things to me, the way he arches his back even more, the tension that builds in him, the way his dick gets harder. The way he helps me with his subconscious hip gyrations. Pushing back against my mouth. It’s a turn on. Seeing him... it, up close and personal gets my cock twitching.

And then suddenly he pulls away and falls back into the bed. He turns around and stares at me. Folds his arms.

I crawl over him and rest my arms either side of him.

“That felt weird.” He whispers.

“Not good?”

He touches his dick. “Really good.”

His dick is perfect too, pink, full and slightly curved up. Rock hard. I replace his hand, make a loose fist around it and massage it gently, up and down his shaft. Pushing his foreskin off his head then up over it again with every stroke. He bites his lower lip but every tug comes with a sigh nonetheless.  

I can guess what made him pull away from the rim job. Hang ups. Sexual hang ups. The fear of being dirty and of worrying that what we are doing is ‘dirty’. Hang ups come from preconceived puritanical societal constructs.

‘ _This is acceptable but that's disgusting’_.

Says who? Such preconceived ideas limit what is possible. They have no place here, between the two of us. He must know that. Our conversations. Our ruminations on his scientific theories and my creative musings have never had boundaries other than our own, no one else's, so why must this?

“Does this feel good?” I ask as I watch my hand move over his cock. I rub it against my belly then go back to jerking him off.

“Yes.” He whispers breathlessly.

 

                

 

“Better or worse than what I just did.”

He looks at me. “Dunno.”

I rest my forehead against his and up the pressure until he releases a desperate moan of pleasure.

He stops me though. Stops me and whispers, “Am I okay… down there?”

He can barely look at me when he asks that. I was right. Hang ups.

“Down there?”

“Yes.” He goes bright red again. “ _Back_ there.”

“Yes.” I smile and kiss him to prove my point. “See?”

“And what if an accident happens?”

“It won’t make headline news. It won’t be anything we haven’t seen before.”

“Ew. Gross.”

“If you like something and I like it too. It’s okay.” I reassure him. “If it doesn’t hurt you or me and it doesn’t harm others, it’s okay too. If it fucking sucks, we try something else. And if an accident happens we stop, laugh it off and sort it. No biggie.”

I spit into my palm, grip his cock again. I rub my thumb against the frenulum and he moans. I rotate left as I stroke up his dick and rotate left on the down sweep. Isak gasps and falls back into the bed tonelessly.

“Better or worse?” I ask again.

“Huh?”

“Hand or rim?”

“This feels amazing.” He gasps. “But that… before… that felt incredible.”

I lift up one of his legs and crawl down his body.

“So hold your legs up so I can make you feel amazing _and_ incredible.”

“Yes.” He sighs.

He grips his knees and I press my mouth against his perineum. I feel his balls pull up and down. My hand jerks him off and my mouth rims him.

I trace the folds of his entrance, observe the wink as his anal muscles contract and relax but never enough to open up. To fuck him I’ll need to do more to prepare him. So I lick my finger and rub it against him. Pleasuring him. Teasing him. Giving him a heads up of what's to come.

I press gently into him and he instinctively clamps down on its tip. I pull out, give him a moment then press in again. Just enough to count as a firm stroke over his hole rather than penetration. Rub and dip. Rub and dip. Add more spit. Rub and dip until he starts to relax. I press a little more firmly. More deliberately. Deeper. I get in as far as the first knuckle and he pushes his knees up even more. More access. More sighs and whimpers. I keep pressing in. I feel his warm inner walls. I stroke against them long enough to wish that my dick could take my finger’s place.

Isak’s feet fall to the bed pushing my finger in completely. He moans and feels up his body and then opens his eyes. Reaches to touch me, my chest and shoulders because that is all his hands can get to. I wank him off and finger him. Push in and out slowly. Press against the firm nub inside him, the pleasure point. I rub it in a circling motion, never letting up.  Milking it until he is a puddle of need and his muscles fail to co-ordinate and his eyes fail to focus and his voice fails to make a coherent sound. Just animal vocalisations. Sighs and gasps and whimpers and hissed ‘yeses’.

And then finally,

“Even!” And again,

“Even!” It sounds delightful and delicious and divine.

And I think he is ready. If I go slow, use plenty of spit (because I’d bet good money that he does not have lube) it’ll be good. It’ll be better than good. With someone like Isak, who is already showing an ability to drop his inhibitions, we’ll be able to reach the stars.

He takes hold of my hand. The one holding his dick and sighs,

“No!”

I don’t get it at first but not a second later, he spurts. A fountain of cum pumps out of him and keeps going and going and going. And he shudders and pulls me to him and he keeps cumming.

I didn’t see his climax coming. I was too caught up in pleasuring him.

“Fuck!” He moans.

He is beautiful like this. With no ounce of control, at the complete mercy of this magnificent physical reaction. I kiss him, wrap him in my arms and kiss him again. I hold him tight, press him to me until the shocks that wrack his body die out.

He intertwines himself to me. Like he is trying to braid us together. I touch my lips to his temple and he smiles lazily. I kiss his chest and stroke his cum-soaked stomach.

“Sorry.” He whispers.

“Why?”

“Actually I’m not.” He pulls me close. “Serves you right for making me feel amazing _and_ incredible.”

+

We don’t cuddle for long.

Isak takes my hand conspiratorially and pulls me out of bed. He has the bright idea of showering the evidence away so we run to the bathroom. Two naked bodies in the middle of the night streaking down the dark corridor. Tiny hears us, wakes up, and comes running up to us.

_Sorry T. Two’s company, three’s a crowd tonight._

“Hi T.” I whisper and pat her side.

“Don’t pander to her, she’ll want to stay!” Isak hisses at me exasperatedly. “No, Tiny!” He admonishes in a stage whisper when Tiny gets excited and tries to jump us. “No. Stay here!" He points at the corridor. " Or go back to sleep!”

We somehow manage to push her out of the bathroom and he locks the door and rests against it.

I smile at him and he smiles back.  

“She’s barking.” I say. “Your dad will wonder why.”

"He won't." Isak shakes his head. “She barks at a lot of things.”

He turns the shower on and we climb into and stand in the bathtub. There is only room for one of us at a time under the warm spray of water.

"You first because you're a guest" he says.

He drops to his knees almost as soon as I get under the jet of water.

“What are you doing?” I ask but I already know.

“Saying thank you for before.” He replies.

His hands slip and slide over my thighs, moving upwards until one of them reaches my shaft. I keep my balance by holding the wall with one hand and his shoulder with the other when he licks me and engulfs me and my legs seem to lose the power to hold me up. As I get harder, it gets harder for him to take me all in. But it still feels so fucking good. Wet and warm and tight. He gags but it doesn’t stop him. He gets breathless but he takes a break only long enough to fill his lungs and start again. He swirls his tongue and guards his teeth,

“Sorry,” He whispers when my shaft gets over familiar with his canines. “Shit.”

“It’s okay.”

Fuck. It's better than okay. He slows down, takes more care. More care means more pressure, More delicious drag. Deeper and tighter. I feel the contours of his mouth as he takes me in and pulls me out. If this is him now, first time out the blocks, then I am a lucky man.

I shoot into his mouth and it catches him off guard as much as it catches me off guard. He comes off me and stares as ropes of my cum hit his face and chest. He covers his mouth as he begins to smile. Smug as hell. He kisses the tip and swallows my seed.

I get him onto his feet and kiss him hard. Press him against the wall and kiss him again. I whisper,

“Fuck, that was hot.”

He pulls me close, “Yeah.”

“Yeah.” I repeat after him.

He presses himself to me and winds his arms around my shoulders. He kisses my neck and closes his eyes and sighs with satisfaction. He rocks us together as the shower warms us with it's flow of water. Me or than him.

“Hey.” I pinch a finger into his side.

“Hum.” He mumbles into my throat.

“I can't get us cleaned up if you won’t let me go.”

He plants a kiss on me and squeezes me tighter. “Can't you figure something out. Thanks.”

 

+

 

When we’re done showering Isak lets Tiny join us, has a play with her and then gives her a nocturnal treat. She falls asleep at the foot of the bed while Isak becomes my personal bedsheet, wrapped over and around me. That is how we fall asleep, with him naked and clinging to me.

 

+

 

Unsurprisingly we oversleep. Isak wakes me up by jumping on me and tickling me.

I start laughing and he clamps his hand on my mouth to shush me.

“Dad’s awake. I heard him upstairs.”

“Do you think he suspects anything?”

“Suspects what?” He gives me an innocent look.

“Funny.”

He kisses me and climbs out of bed, covers himself up by wearing my shirt.

“No. He doesn’t.”

“He’s more perceptive than you think.”

“If he was, mum would still be here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean.”

“Nothing. I better get dressed and get up there before he comes looking for me. See you upstairs. There are some of dad’s old clothes in that wardrobe if you need. He won’t mind.” He is just about to close the door when he turns around. “Could you give it ten minutes before you come up? Just so, you know-”

"I know."

"Thanks."

“Isak?”

“Yeah.”

“Come here.”

He walks up to me, smiling coyly.

I stand up and give him a kiss, brief and gentle. “Happy birthday.”

He takes my hand. “So far my best birthday ever.”

I laugh at his enthusiasm and then watch him close the door quietly behind him. In the brightness of daylight, the events of the night feel like a dream I made up. 

I hear a whimper and notice that Tiny is still here.

I look at her, “You saw too much last night, T.”

She stares at me.

“But it could have been worse."

She cocks her head at me.

"Be honest. On a scale of one to ten, how awkward is breakfast with his dad going to be now?”

She barks.

“Yeah. Agreed. I was going to say an eleven.”

I sift through the wardrobe, find a t-shirt and wear my own shorts. I wait a few minutes then Tiny and I make our way to the kitchen together.

Fredrik and Isak are already sat at the table. Placed at its centre is a plate stacked with pancakes layered with sugared strawberries. Lit candles poke out of the top.

Isak barely acknowledges my presence but Martin is all sunshine.

“Morning Even!” He says.

“Morning. I hope you don't mind that I borrowed a top.”

“That’s fine. Take a seat. Do you want coffee?"

"Please."

"Did you sleep well?”

I sit next to him. Opposite Isak.

“Yeah.” _Don’t look at his son_. “Yeah. Fine."

"Morning, Isak." I say.

"Morning."

"Happy birthday.” I say it without looking at him. Safer.

“Thanks.” He looks down at the table then his dad.

“Isak didn’t want to blow out his candles until you got here.”

“I wasn’t _that_ bothered.” Isak protests.

“He insisted.” His dad counters with a smile.

Isak blows them out unceremoniously. “There. Done.”

“Did you make a wish?”

Isak nods. He quickly looks at me.

“Good.” Fredrik starts singing [happy birthday](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EeXfePNHG9w) so I join in and Isak endures the ritual.

 _Hurra for deg som fyller ditt år!_  
Ja, deg vil vi gratulere!  
Alle i ring omkring deg vi står,  
og se, nå vil vi marsjere,  
bukke, nikke, neie, snu oss omkring,  
danse for deg med hopp og sprett og spring,  
ønske deg av hjertet alle gode ting!  
Og si meg så, hva vil du mere?  
Gratulere!

The pancakes are very nice. Light and thin. The strawberries are plump and sweet. The combination, with a sprinkling of icing sugar, is divine but I am barely eating.

 

                    

 

The fear of slipping up, giving Isak lusty looks or inappropriately touching him in front of his father has killed my appetite. Father and son have no problems with their appetites however. They devour their food and we are completely silent until Fredrik finally says,

“What have you got there, kid?”

Isak frowns as Fredrik indicates at his neck with his fork.

Fuuuuuuuck.

Isak touches his own neck and then goes red and covers my bite mark. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Tiny. She was being weird.”

Fredrik looks sceptical but doesn’t say a word. He stabs his fork into his final bite of pancake and looks at me in what I can only describe as an threatening way.

Gulp.

Is it just me or is he aggressively eating that last bit of pancake, as if it’s my head he’s digesting.

“How do you like my pancakes, Even?” He asks.

I swallow hard. “Very.”

“You’re not eating.”

“I think I might be coming down with a stomach bug.”

“You didn’t have any problems with eating last night.”

He looks down the barrel at me.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He knows.

One hundred percent. He knows about Isak and me. Does Isak realise that his dad has figured us out?

He turns to his son, “Do you want your present now or later?”

Isak gets very excited. “Now!”

No. Isak hasn’t realised.

“Okay. Are you done eating?” Fredrik asks.

Isak nods.

“There’s a note in the bowl next to the front door with a clue. There are a couple of clues to work through. Took a leaf out of your friend’s book from your fifteenth birthday.” He looks at me and I nod.

"Thanks, dad. Pancakes were awesome as usual."

Isak stands up and so do I.

“Even.”

Shit. “Yep. Fredrik.”

Sir.

“Could you stay back a minute? Help me clean up?”

“He doesn’t need to do that.” Isak frowns. “I can clean up later.”

Fredrik raises an eyebrow. “That was meant to be code for ‘I need to speak with him so that we can coordinate your birthday plans’.”

Isak beams. “Awesome. Cool. Catch me in a bit then.”

The minute he is gone, Fredrik turns to me.

“We are doing a surprise dinner for him tonight, seven onwards, at the coffee shop. We’re going to close it for the evening and bring in a live band. Drinks. Food. Festoon lighting by the fjord and barbeque. You get the picture. You’re very welcome of course and his friends. Our whole family are going to be there; grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles. His mother will be there too.” Then he asks. “So what were his friends planning?”

“Eva wanted to take him to the cinema but I’m not sure when.”

Fredrik nods. “That’s a tradition of theirs.”

“Yes and then a nightclub. Babylon.”

“Jesus. Babylon?" He shakes his head. "Are you going with them?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’d be grateful if you did. They all act so grown up but it’s ninety percent an act.”

“Sometime's I think it's an act for all of us.”

Fredrik agrees. “You might be right there.”

“I’ll see if he wants me there.”

Isak's dad laughs.

“What?”

“We both know that Isak would want you there. Let’s not be coy.” He grips my shoulder and I am ready for the death grip that he is sure to give me. This is the moment where he goes for my jugular and I die.

“Early this morning I went to Isak’s room to wish him happy birthday, and he wasn’t there.” Fredrik says.

“I don’t know-”

He gives my shoulder a pat and I nearly pass out. “I know he was with you, Even.”

I can already imagine the conversation he will have with Isak later.

_‘Dad, where’s Even?’_

_‘Oh. Him? He had to go somewhere… for a long long time...’_

Meanwhile there I am dead and in a shallow grave at the back of the house because Fred found out I was fucking around with his son.

“His bed was empty.” Fred adds.

I am totally tongue tied. I do not know what to say to make the situation better. I am dead meat.

“He’s all I’ve got.” He says. “And I want him to be happy. Do you understand?”

May as well be honest if it’s the last thing I do on this Earth. “I do. I want him to be happy too.”

“And I can see that you make him happy.”

What?

“Isak thinks that I don’t see these things that are happening in his life but I do."

I look at him tentatively.

Fredrik says. “I don't know why but he's not ready or doesn't want to share this stuff with me. But you have reached out to me given me enough hints for me to understand. You’ve always complemented each other.”

I frown. When have I reached out to him?

“You maybe didn't realise but you have been dropping clues for years, Even. Every time you called in to see my son or when you went back to Oslo and called him. Especially when you would call me but ask after him; his life, his school, his grades, how he’s coping with his mum leaving, that fracture he had, whether he was enjoying your presents. Every time you showed interest you told me how much you cared about him. And so now I am telling you that I got the message loud and clear. My son is his own man now and it’s all good.”

“Oh.”

Fredrik's expression turns steely. “But I am still displeased with you both because last night you disrespected my house rules doing what you did under my roof.”

My heart stops and my blood runs cold. Shit.

He winks and gives me a smile. “Just kidding. I don't know what you did. Don't tell me. And I can’t talk. I was a nightmare child. My parents-”

“Dad!”

Isak’s voice is coming from outside the house. The driveway.

“Yes, kid!”

“What the fuck! Your car?!! I found the keys under the pot of flowers.”

                    

Fredrik and I grin at Isak’s reaction.

“Yes! Happy Birthday! Now you've got wheels to get to Oslo and back.”

"This is so awesome! I'm going in!"

"Don't release the handbrake!"

“Okay. Dad!"

"Yes!"

"What are you going to drive?!”

“I’m getting a new one tomorrow!”

“I need to learn to drive now! DAD!!”

“Even can teach you!” Fredrik looks at me.

“Even?!” Isak screams.

I look at Fredrik. “Yes! What?”

“Will you teach me how to drive?!”

“I value my life!”

“Fuck off!”

I laugh. 

“What are you doing in there?!  Come out! I want to practice in the driveway!”

Fred turns to me. “Come on. Let’s go. Birthday boy is waiting and there is no way in hell I am being his passenger.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It only gets deeper... pun intended.


	15. The One With Isak's mum, A Secret revealed, 8 Birthday Surprises, And A Slip Of The Tongue From Even

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tore near fire.
> 
> Also NSFW for prose and pictures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've been watching a lot of gay cinema recently. I re-watched Brokeback Mountain, Weekend and Moonlight. I watched Call Me By Your Name (twice!), God's Own Country (thrice!) and Beach Rats. All in the name of scholarly research. Ahem.
> 
> Anyway, I've smattered some references from some of those films in this chapter. Sorry it's a bit of a mess. I am really struggling to find time to write that isn't pressured. (There are probably typos everywhere)
> 
> Also I would like to credit the drawings in this chapter. All are by the amazing French (mainly fanfic) artist in the making Finny Red. Merci beaucoup.

** This Summer- Isak **

 

Mum always seems to call at the worst times. Like right now, as I am waiting for Even in his car in his drive, listening to his [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S4cD8eyWpwQ) (reggae obviously) and acting like a desperate weirdo because I have leaned over to feel the warmth he has left behind on his seat and to stuff my face against his headrest to sniff his scent. He’s been gone ten minutes. It feels like ten hours.  

She breaks out into song the minute I pick up. Happy birthday to me...

“Thanks.” I say when she's done.

“I’m so sad that I’m not there with you.”

“It’s fine, ma.”

She hasn’t been back to the village since breaking up with dad, so she hasn’t been around for my last two birthdays either. I’m getting used to not celebrating it with her. I don’t take it personally. I know they avoid each other as much as possible and restrict any interactions to those required to be decent parents; to discuss me. School, visits, sickness.

“It’s not okay, not for this one, but...” She sighs then changes gear. “My baby boy is a young man now! It feels like just yesterday you were sucking on my breast.”

“Gross.”

She laughs. “That wasn’t your attitude when you were a baby.”

“If I could speak I would have said ‘gross’.”

“And I would have said ‘suck it up, kid. This will help make you into a very handsome, incredibly talented young man’. Point proven.”

Sometimes mum’s words feel like warm hugs.

“How’s your day so far?”

“Dad gave me his car as a birthday present.”

“He’s given it to you already?”

“Yes. Did you know?”

“He told me a few weeks ago. Do you want me to teach you how to drive when you get here?”

“Um. Yeah. No. It’s okay. Even said he will.”

“Even?” There’s surprise in her voice.

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t think you were talking to him.”

“We are.” Even and I have done a LOT MORE than talk. “We’re talking again.”

“You were upset about the girlfriend.”

I feel so stupid thinking about how my misunderstanding lead to so much drama; tears and tantrums that mum witnessed, the silent treatment Even experienced and the moodiness my friends endured.

“There was no girlfriend.”

“Oh.”

“So…”

“Does that mean you’re together?”

“I don't know. I guess.” I slide down my seat so that my back is practically horizontal on it. “We’ve made up.”

“So, I can go back to seeing Even as the lovely young man that I remember?”

“Yep. He’s meant to be taking me somewhere soon. Not sure where. And the rest of the day is a mystery too.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“I hate surprises.”

“You love surprises.”

I shrug because she might be right.

“What about the other boy? I hope you’ve stepped away from that situation, kid.”

Mum's words cut through me. The problem with having a mother like her is that she can somehow sense when shit is going down in my life and before I know it I am spilling everything to her. That’s how she’s the only person to know about my most closely held secret. An error made as my raging hormones collided with heartbreak.  

“He’s not important.” I say to kill the root of this conversation.

“So unhealthy, Isak-”

“I know.”

Even knocks on the driver’s window and grins at me through it.

“Gotta go. Talk later.”

I slide back up my chair as Even gets in and plants a kiss on my forehead. He gives me a curious smile. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

He smooths my forehead. “You’re frowning.”

“Oh.” I chew my lip. “Just something mum said. You know. Mums.”

“How is she?”

“Talking about how she breastfed me my intelligence.”

He laughs as he pockets his phone. “Okay. Today is looking packed for you, so I have a request.”

“What’s that?”

“Whatever you do, whoever you’re with, say that you’ll be with me at midnight.”

“Why midnight?”

One corner of his mouth curls up. “Because I want to be alone with you but it’s your day and others want the same so I’m trying not to be selfish.”

Gulp.

“You are alone with me now.” My mouth feels dry. I wet my lips as my mind goes to the logistics of making out in a sports car. It’s surely easier than in a spacecraft. Where there’s a will there’s a way. “And it’s my day, as you say. I can have a say in what happens.”

He laughs at that. “Have you met your friends and your dad? You have literally _no_ say in your day!”

“That's not fair.” I lean over the gearbox to give him a soft kiss.

"Agreed." He whispers and kisses me back.

My heart skips a beat. The universe falls away and it’s just him and me and gentle persuasive pressure of his lips on mine. He pushes me back into my seat, presses a hand against my chest and sighs.

“Stop."

I smile and act like I don't know what he means when I actually feel exactly how he feels. The craving for more is deep in my gut. It is so powerful that the only thing to do is pull the brakes before we go over the edge. Even though right now what I want to do is turn all my attention to him and turn it away from the rest of the world and whatever plans it has for me. 

"Midnight?” He urges persuasively.

“Yes.” My hands and lips reach for him once more of their own accord, but he presses me back again after I steal one last kiss.

“Don’t dangle temptation in front of me.” He kisses me once more. “When we have places to be.”

He lowers his sunglasses over his eyes and puts the car in motion.

 

+

 

SURPRISE NUMBER 1.

In keeping with my birthday tradition, he takes me to the cinema. Which isn't really a surprise but it's not the family-run small movie theatre that Eva and I normally go to. This is the nearest multiplex located in a coastal town about forty minutes’ drive away. We walk into the foyer and I feel a jolt of panic. It rises when I see how busy the place is and spot Eva, Jonas _and_ Mahdi. Mahdi. Shouldn’t he be on holiday with his family?

My panic turns into self-consciousness which uncoils in the pit of my stomach and grows roots that invade the rest of me, stilting my walk and making my smile wooden.

I subconsciously, no, completely consciously, keep myself at least one metre away from Even so that any stranger would be hard pressed to make _‘assumptions’_ about the nature of our relationship. That doesn’t stop my friends being super interested in it.  I know that they are trying to figure out what we are. Friends or more. Thankfully we’re late and the movie trailers are about to make way for the feature film so there isn’t time for idle chit chat. We get snacks and make our way to our screen.

“You’ll choke when you find out what movie we’re watching.” Mahdi says. “Even nailed it.”  

                      

It’s my favourite genre, action. It's a film that’s part of a franchise that I have watched obsessively since finding out it’s link to Even’s, and consequently, my childhood fantasy. A movie about transformation premiering on the day I transform into an adult.

             

Even passes pre-bought tickets to the usher for five VIP seats in the IMAX theatre (when did he buy them?); plush leather bound, extra-room, extra leg space. Feels awesome but also extravagant.

“Don’t say it.” He presses a finger on my lips.

I push it off me. “I wasn’t going to…"

“… moan about the extravagance?” He finishes my sentence. “You’ve turned 18. I’m not apologising for a little extravagance.”

“I wasn’t going to moan." I say sheepishly. "I was going to say thanks.” After moaning a little bit.

He smiles. “Well then, you’re welcome.”

He caresses a finger along the curve of my smile. In public. Oh god. I step away from him. There’s a large crowd walking towards the same theatre that have probably seen that. One of the boys in a group next to us grimaced and is giving us funny looks.

I get nervy. Even’s touch, in the privacy of his car or my spare room is welcome and beautiful, but now it feels salacious. Call it social anxiety, shyness, introversion. I don’t know. I feel hyper-aware. I pull away from him under the pretence that I want to tell Mahdi something and skip ahead to catch up with my friend.

I sit next to Mahdi on one side of me and Even on the other. When the lights go down I assume the darkness will ease my self-consciousness enough to act as couple-y with Even as Eva acts with Jonas but something holds me back. When Even places his hand on my thigh I tense up. When he reaches for my hand I avoid it. I look away every time he glances at me. Eventually he stops trying.

These are MY insecurities. I hope he does not see them as rejection. I wish I could be the kind of person who does not give a fuck, but a warped experience has fucked with my self-confidence.

 

+

 

SURPRISE NUMBER 2.

Lunch is within walking distance of the cinema, facing water, at a seafood restaurant where the staff clearly know Even well.

 

                     [](http://horecanytt.no/sites/all/files/field/embed_images/GeirSkeie10_full.jpg)

 

“My parents and I used to come here all the time.” Even glances at me as we enter the establishment. “I’ve wanted to bring you for some time.”

“Cool.”

“Cute.” Eva says.

I sit opposite him when we are shown to our table. He notices but doesn't make comment.

“When I told mum we were coming here she said that the owner is a guy called Geir Skeie and that he's one of the best seafood chefs in Norway.” Jonas studies the menu.

 

                                    

 

Even agrees.

“Seafood is Isak’s favourite.” Eva nods.

“I like all food.” I mutter into my menu. God. Is he going to pay for this too? He needs to stop with this generosity.

“Mate, why are you lying. You looove seafood!” Jonas insists.

Even orders two bottles of white wine that Eva, Mahdi and I consume as if it’s the last stock in the world and pairs it with ‘melt in my mouth’ king crab legs freshly caught this morning. 

 

                         

 

I feel so fucking ungrateful to think this but the truth is I am miserable. Every time Eva rubs Jonas’s mouth with a napkin, or he feeds her crab meat and gives her adoring looks or laughs when she says something funny, I get more upset. Their comfort with public displays of affection jabs me in the heart. The mere thought of holding Even’s hand in front of people or giving any hint that we are more than friends makes me nervous.

I can’t keep my happy act up any more. I make my excuses and go to the restaurant’s bathroom. Thankfully it’s empty. I am close to tears and it’s ridiculous because I have made this cage and put myself in it. As a fully certified adult I shouldn’t give two fucks what people think of me. Yet, right now I would rather guard against experiencing ridicule and hate from those who might object to what gives me joy and pleasure. I can’t stand the thought of people looking in disgust at what Even and I have.

What if I acted like I didn’t care? What if I marched up to Even now and kissed him, in front of everyone in the restaurant?. Would that be so bad? I like him. I care for him and that’s a nice thing. Surely everyone would see that. But what if I did the same to people I know. Acquaintances. Relatives. Dad. That’s not so easy. There is so much more at stake. So much more for me to lose if they disapprove. 

Dad.

What if dad were to disown me? If he looked at me as if I weren't his son any longer. How would I deal with that? Could I brush off the pain?

I am startled out of my thoughts by a hand on my shoulder. I turn around to see Even. I didn't even here him walk into the bathroom but his presence is just what I need, welcome, like a perfectly timed kind word when a moment of sorrow flits through me. He doesn’t say a word and neither do I. We have known each other long enough to know how we are feeling without saying a word. He takes my hand and leads me into a stall.

He locks it and faces me. 

He might know how I am feeling but not why I am feeling it.

"You're upset. Not yourself." He says.

"Sorry."

He shakes his head and takes my hands in his. "No 'sorry'. Have I done something wrong?"

"No."

He doesn't believe me and I can understand why. "You're blanking me."

I owe him an explanation but I am selfish.

I don't want to reveal my weaknesses. not right now, not when I am displaying actual weakness Not when saying what I feel will reduce me to tears. Not now. So I kiss him. I kiss him instead of answering him. Because kissing is like a reset button. It brings everything back to just me and him. I kiss him softly at first. Softly, softly. But that is not enough. I want to feel his desire. I need passion and heat. So I kiss him with all the need in my body and I experience a level of desperation that can’t be healthy. It spring on me unannounced and triggers my yearning for him. I pull him into my arms then press him to cubicle wall. I might be shorter and a touch lighter than him but I’m more athletic. I use my power to pin him there and rest myself against him so that I can feel the thud of his heart against my chest, the rapid rise and fall of his breathing, the press of his groin against my lower stomach as he kisses me back and feeds the fire of my lust. He nearly lifts me into his embrace, such is its power.

I kiss him and realise that it is as much about feeling connected to him as it is about distancing myself from my fear of potential rejection and hate by others.

In here, between the four walls of this restaurant's bathroom, we are still explosive.

This hug that he gives me and the kisses he delivers feel like the opposite faces of desire. The kisses gentle and the hug punishing. So fucking good, so firm and unrelenting and all-encompassing that we'll both get bruises from each other. He pulls back and stares into my soul so I confess my truth to him.

“I’m not out."

His expression is indecipherable. Neither positive nor negative.

"That’s why I am acting like a dick.” I explain. "I don't know how to behave."

“Okay.” His 'okay' doesn't help either. Okay, I am a dick but he's okay with that or, Okay I am a dick and what am i going to do about that?

“My friends know. And mum, but that’s it. So, I’m like, a bit ‘out’.”

He nods again but doesn't say anything. I wish he would if only to tell me that he doesn't hate me or that he does hate me. Then we can move on.

“And…” I clear my throat when I feel like I’m about to choke up. “I’m terrified about people knowing. I’m not ready yet.”

He pulls me to him and gives me a flutter of kisses. He looks at me and plants a further cluster of kisses all over my face. Playful I think. They draw a smile from me.

"That's better." He whispers. “What do your friends and mum think?”

I exhale. “They really like you.”

He grins. “I mean about you coming out to them.”

“Me? Yeah. They’re chill.”

“Yeah?”

I nod. "Eva has known forever but the guys, I told them last summer."

“And your dad?”

I shake my head.

 

"Why are you scared of telling him and other people?"

I bury my head into his chest. Feels perfect. I bite him there and he flinches.

“Stop biting.”

I bite him again and he kisses me.

"And stop avoiding the question."

"Not everyone is like my mum or my friends."

“True. But it's worth giving people the benefit of the doubt.”

"Do people know about you?"

He nods and whispers.

"Your friends?"

He nods again. "Worst case scenario, people leave who probably needed to be out of your life anyway."

But what if those people are family? Close family. My own father? Could I live with that?

 

+

 

He leaves me with my friends in town which sucks. I want him to join us but they insist so who am I to argue. ONLY THE FUCKING BIRTHDAY BOY!

My phone pings when he is not even five minutes gone.

 

_Remember midnight_

 

_I’m counting down the hours_

 

 

I smile.

 

_That gif again?_

 

_It's the gif that keeps on giving!_

_Do you like it?_

 

 

 

 

 

+ 

 

SURPRISE NUMBER 3.

"I'm day drunk, people." Mahdi announces.

"Same." I nod.

"Even hooked us up with that fancy wine." Jonas says.

“I really couldn't tell if you two were on or off or on again?” Eva says to me as we head back into the centre of town. 

“You better say ‘on’ because I brought up test driving his car and he seems cool with it.” Jonas rubs his hands together. 

“I guess we are dating.” I say.

Mahdi swings an arm over my shoulder. “Look at the blush. Our Isak has finally got himself a boyfriend!”

"He's not my boyfriend."

Mahdi laughs. "Yeah right!"

He leads us into a bowling alley. So I guess this is activity number three of the day. Around thirty kids that I know from school are here.

I look at Mahdi.

“Don’t look at me like that. People wanted to come and celebrate, dude. You’ve got to stop being so anti-social.”

I wouldn’t strictly speaking call the people here friends but I guess the definition is subjective. They either share classes with me or do debate club or play basketball with me and they are nice people, so I go around saying 'hi' and 'thanks for coming' and small talk and taking presents.

I hang out with the basketball guys including Mahdi and we talk about the past season, a good one, and our various plays and favourite shots.

“Hey, gay boy!”

I do not need to turn around to know who the idiot saying that is.

 

                         

 

Chris, and William is by his side.

I try to ignore them but they join us.

“Not today, guys.” Mahdi says. “Take one day off being morons.”

“Who’s being a moron?” Chris asks. “We’re being nice.” He turns to me. “We heard it's your birthday and I wanted to say congrats. Eighteen. Wow."

“Isak knows we’re just messing with him.” William pats my back firmly. “We’re friends. Right, Isak?” 

“Sure.”

Chris smiles at me and places a hand on my shoulder and jabs another one into my chest. “When we played for the school, Isak was our point guard. So fucking fast and light on his feet.”

“We got some good wins, didn’t we, Isak?” William says.

“We did better this year.” I say.

STAB THEM WHERE IT HURTS.

Chris scoffs a laugh. “Anyway, let us get you a drink, birthday boy.”

“No thanks.”

I didn’t even know bowling alleys served alcohol.

He gives me a knowing smile. He laughs, drapes an arm over my shoulders. “Are you a little drunk already?”

Yes. Damn wine. “No.”

He begins to pull me towards the bar. “Come on! Shots on me!”

I push him off me. “No.”

He looks shocked and frankly so does everyone else.

“Who says no to free drinks?” Someone says.

Chris scowls at me. “Okay. Fine. Remind me never to try and do something nice for you again.”  

 

+

 

_We’re bowling with a bunch of_

_people from school_

 

_Having fun?_

 

_Yes. On the whole, but I really_

_suck at it._

 

_Dick joke!_

 

 

 _Some of the old boys_ _from_

_basketball club are here too._

 

_And that’s a bad thing?_

 

_They’re being dicks so nothing new._

_Do you want me to tell them to_

_fuck off?_

 

_Like you used to with those kids_

_from elementary school?_

 

_Yup. I’ll put on my imposing_

_‘don’t fuck with me look’._

 

_I think that would undermine the_

_point that I can stand on my own_

_two feet and defend myself_

 

_Anyone who knows you properly_

_knows you’re a soldier_

 

I smile because that feels good to hear even if it’s a lie.

 

_I can’t wait until midnight._

 

_Nor can I._

 

+

 

I am tired by the time I get home in the early evening but Eva et co. have said that I need to get myself ready for this evening’s activities. My only instructions are to dress smart casual and be ready for pick up by seven pm. I have a feeling that we’re going to pregame hard. And then, if Jonas has anything to do with things, they’re going to take me to that club that they keep going on about and that I haven’t been able to sneak into yet. I wish I was excited at the prospect, but I am not sure clubbing appeals to me. The crowding. The claustrophobia. The lack of connection despite being in a sea of people because of the loud music and public intoxication.

First things first. I walk and feed Tiny. Then I go to the spare room, strip the bed Even and I slept in and throw the linen into the washing machine. I hear the front door unlock upstairs. Dad’s home.

“Kid!” He shouts.

“Yes!”

“Where are you?!”

“I’m about to jump in the shower! I’m meeting my friends again in a bit!”

“I need to talk to you after!”

“Okay!”

I walk into the bathroom, lock it and strip down. I turn on the shower. While waiting for the water to heat up I stand in front of the full-length mirror and turn this way and that, analysing my body.

I flex a bicep. In an ideal world, I’d be bulkier, less lanky, more defined. My hair wouldn’t be as unruly and weirdly fluffy at the sides. My cheeks wouldn’t go so red so easily as they do now. I wouldn’t have a fucking spot that has decided to erupt between my eyebrows like a third eye! My stomach’s okay though. A bit skinny but I have ab definition, thanks to my running and basketball training. It would be nice if my cock was a little more impressive when flaccid though. At least it’s a good size when I’m hard. Will it grow anymore? Even’s, by comparison, is… nice. Really nice. Bigger and thicker than mine. Touchable. Like his chest hair. He has a small smattering that feels good against my fingertips. Will I get some? I have none there, but I have scanty fuzz covering my balls and surrounding my hole. Will I ever grow more than that? Is it an unpleasant hairy mouthful for Even when he gets all up in there? Should I shave it off?

So many questions. What are the answers, Google?

I step into the shower and go for a deep clean. Thinking of midnight here. I scrub myself so well from head to toe that I am well past exfoliation and downright polishing myself down. There is a part of my anatomy that I pay particular attention to; that I rub down and even dip just slightly with a finger just enough to make sure that I won’t feel self-conscious if Even decides to do what he did last time. Or if I get brave enough to ask him to do it again.

There is a loud knock at the door.

I stop scrubbing my bum.

“Isak! How much longer do you plan to be in there!”

“I’m nearly done!”

“I need your help at the shop.”

“Now?!”

“Yes. We’re getting a delivery from Oslo. I couldn’t change the time. It won’t take long.”

“But I’m meeting up with Eva, Jonas and Mahdi, Dad!” I moan.

“I can drop you off whenever you need after.”

I huff and mutter, “Fine. It’s only my birthday. It’s not like I want to have fun or anything.”

I’m such a brat sometimes.

"Oh and I'll need to use your car that was my car."

 

+

 

SURPRISE NUMBER 4.

 

“SURPRISE!”

I genuinely jump in shock when Dad and I walk into the coffee shop and the lights come on.

 

                            

 

I grip my chest as I take in my fourth surprise of the day. Although technically there are a few surprises rolled into one. Dad holds onto my shoulders as I take in who’s here cheering for me. Aunts, uncles, grandparents and cousins. Eva, Jonas and Mahdi and a few school kids from the bowling alley. People I know from the village that I have known my whole life. Tore and Mari. No joke, even my physics teacher Mr Løvold, who happens to be married to Mari is here. The place is packed with familiar faces who are part of the tapestry of my life.

The shop has been converted into a party venue. Festoon lighting and blue balloons everywhere.

Outside, through the windows, the yard that we use for the kayak shop has been converted. I can barely recognise it from how it normally looks.

 

                             

 

Rows of kayaks have been replaced by bunting, more festoon lighting and balloons. A huge grill is fired up in one corner  and a stack of wood is piled up on the stone pier that extends out into the fjord ready to be lit into a bonfire when it gets dark enough. Further to the right, where the coffee shop outdoor seating area is, more tables have been added.

Everyone takes a turn to come up and wish me happy birthday and tell me how much I have grown and all the usual lovely inane shit family say. I look around. Searching. Is he here?

He is. Standing in a corner of the room, towering over most people with a perfectly styled blond mop. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since we parted after lunch.

Even mouths, “Surprise,” and bwinks.

 

                  

 

Before I have a chance to go to him there is a tap on my shoulder.

I turn around.

It’s mum.

SURPRISE NUMBER 5.

 

+

 

I am all hugged out and there must be craters where my cheeks once were because I have never been kissed so many times by so many people over such a small space of time. I am overwhelmed. It almost feels like too much because these are people I like and want to spend time with yet it’s an impossible task as I end up spending not enough time with anyone.

Almost everyone is outside, milling around the patch of grass that abuts the fjord, taking trips to the grill (masterfully run by Tore) and food table to load their plates up with large helpings. Dancing to music that is blaring out of speakers facing out of the windows of the kayak shop.

Eva and Jonas are barely swaying to the rhythm as they embrace. Mahdi was with me until a few moments ago but he has gone off to call his girlfriend so I grab a beer and lean against the shed. I look around until I clock what I was looking for. I enjoy the view while savouring booze in front of family knowing that they can’t tell me off.

Oh, the joys of being an adult!

My beer bottle is whipped out of my hands before I can finish that thought.

“He’s a very good-looking boy but you really mustn’t stare so hard.” Mum whispers into my ear and dangles my beer bottle in front of me. “Who am I kidding? I’d do the same!”

She takes a generous swig out of it, so I snatch it back from her.

“I wasn’t staring, mum.”

She strokes my cheek. “Yes, you were.”

Oh.

“And pace yourself. In time, you’ll realise that pacing will yield greater reward than rushing things.”  

“Are we talking about alcohol?”

“And other things.”

I look at my drink and then at her. I take a protest sip from it and then put it down because, really, I am a mummy’s boy.

We both look at Even. He’s by the grill talking to Dad, Tore, Mari and Mr. Løvold. I can just about hear them debating their personal styles of barbecuing.

“So you think he’s good looking?” I ask her.

She smiles.

“You know he is and I think you make a very beautiful couple.” She smooths my shirt down.

I don’t normally dress up so this is just about as good as it gets; smart dark jeans rolled up at the bottom, a pair of navy espadrilles and a checkered, dark blue, black and white shirt. “And he's smart so he can keep up with that mind of yours."

She whispers in my ear. “I might be a little jealous of you, kid. There is nothing like knowing someone's really into you.”

I drop my voice. “Mum.”

“Yes.”

I drop my voice further. “May I ask you something?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“Can you not yet tell anyone in the family please?”

She frowns. "Tell them what?"

“It’s just…” I look at my extended family that are gathered here. At Dad.  “I’ll tell them about me when I’m ready.”

“I haven’t told a soul. Not even my own sister.”

I breathe a sigh of relief.

“But I don’t get it.” Her look is earnest. “Why not tell them?”

I shrug.

"Do you think they'll react badly?"

I shrug again.

“Is there something you’ve seen them do or heard them say to make you think that?”

“No. Not them.”

“Then who?”

 

                    

 

SURPRISE NUMBER 6.

My heart leaps into my mouth and mum looks at the two people who have just rounded the corner of the coffee shop and are walking in our direction. She sees the concern in my eyes and it dawns on her.

“Is that him?”

“Yes.”

"Which one. Actually nevermind. I know who it is." She takes a menacing step towards them and I hold her back.

“No.”

“I just want to speak with him.”

I almost laugh. “And say what?!”

She throws me a sharp look. “It’s not funny. No one treats my son like that. Is that why you won't let me tell you auntie about you?”

"No." Yes. Pretty much.  “I won’t let him treat me like that ever again, mum. I promise. I'm all grown up now remember.”

“It’s insecurity. You do know that, right? He carries himself with swagger and confidence to hide the fact that he lacks both.”

Mahdi comes back from his phone call and clocks William and Chris. He looks at me then mum. “When did they get here?”

“Just now.”

"Damn."

Mercifully they salute us but keep walking (probably due to my mum's crazy protective mum face) towards a group of girls.

“Mate, I didn't invite them. Someone at bowling must have told them. I’ll get them to leave.”

Mum looks at me. “So you've told Mahdi happened between you and-?”

“No.” I say quickly cutting her off. “I mean. Yeah. He knows that they tease me.”

“What happened to you and with who?” Mahdi asks.

“Nothing.” Mum and I say simultaneously.

“No one.” I say. "And don’t boot them out. If they play up then I’ll throw them out personally.”

 

+

 

22.35.

             

               

             

              

 

              

 

                   

 

There is still the slightest hint of daylight. The sky is not quite its darkest hue. The air is still and thin, cooler than earlier. There some residual heat in the ground from the sun, like a recently worn piece of clothing still warm from body heat. I don’t feel cold though, probably a combination of the drink I’ve had and the energy spent dancing for nearly an hour straight.

“Chris tried it on with me again earlier.” Eva says with disgust as we dance together on the lawn.

 

             

 

She hugs me close then pulls away and twirls and shimmies before pulling me close again. “When Jonas was with me!”

“Not surprised.”

“Have you seen how he’s still wearing his _Penetrator_ hoodie from last year’s _Russ._ You fucking graduated already. Grow up!” She explodes. Then shudders. “Anyway, when I turned him down he literally went to try it on with two other girls. I think one of them is your cousin from Tromso.”

"Which one?"

"I don't know. Blonde girl. Tall. He took her to the bathroom."

 “That's not my cousin. She's David's youngest daughter.”

Even is hanging out with my mum, speaking quietly, their foreheads almost touching. It's disconcerting because they are both looking at me. Drama alert. I hope she doesn’t say something super inappropriate or embarrassing about me. She waves at me while Even stares at me unwaveringly.  

What _are_ they saying?

“Why aren’t you hanging out with him?” Eva asks me when she sees who I’m ogling. “You haven't hung out with him once all evening. Come to think of it you barely spoke to him over lunch.”

“I can't hang out with just him for my whole birthday.”

“Yes, but you can try to talk to him a little bit. God, if Jonas blanked me like you are blanking Even he'd be dead meat."

 

She grips our hands together, spins us around and around and around until the world spins with us and we collapse onto the ground panting. I close my eyes to stop feeling sick as Eva rolls over to me to look at me with stern eyes.

“I don't know why you're being weird. He is so into you." She sighs when I don't open up. "Whatever it is, whatever is eating you up, you better be sure in your mind that it's worth compromising your relationship with Even.”

I stand up, dust myself off and help pull Eva up to her feet.

             

                

 

I accidentally catch Chris's eye. He winks at me before I have a chance to look away.

Eva looks at me impatiently. "Is it worth it?"

I shake my head.

"No. Not even remotely worth it."

 

+

 

23.35.

For the last half hour I have been saying bye to the older family members, families with young children and those too tired to stay on and continue partying. It looks like some of them will be crashing at our place tonight so Dad decides to call it a night too and drive them home. Mum is not far behind in saying goodbye. When I ask her where she is staying, she’s vague and says she’ll see me tomorrow then reads me the riot act.

“Please take care of yourself and your friends. Don’t drink too much. Stay together. Take a taxi if you must go anywhere by car. Don’t go in the water. You've had too much to drink.” She palms me some money- which dad already did a few minutes ago. Win. “Don’t worry about the shop. Tore says he’ll lock up. And have fun with Even.”

"Anything else?" I ask sarcastically.

"Yes. Give me a kiss."

I peck her on the cheek.

“Mum, what were you talking with him about earlier?”

“Nice things about you.” She kisses my cheek then rubs the lipstick off before going.

There is a shift in the party mood; from family friendly to messy house party. Those left behind are hardcore. The volume of the music goes up, a fresh round of booze goes round and the smell of weed hits the air. Bet you Tore is selling. I get into it. Not the weed but the party spirit. Dragged into it by my friends. We bounce to the music. I feel the beat and roll with it. The booze flowing through my veins helps.

But there is something huge missing.

I have been here well over four hours and have only spoken with Even twice. Once right at the beginning of the party when saying hello before my cousins swooped in and pulled me away for a toast and a lawn game. The second was when he was filling in for Tore at the grill while Dad’s hippie colleague was answering a call of nature.

I seek him out now the way I have all evening, with my eyes tuned into his shape and form. I have seen him glide easily through my people all night, as if he is one of them, which he is. I can’t see him, so I go in search of him. He isn’t on the grass, by the tables, next to the spent grill, near the water or by the burning bonfire; large and bright in the dark.            

 

                 

 

I look around the whole outdoor footprint of the property then walk into the coffee shop. He isn’t in there either or its bathrooms. The kayak shop is locked so he can’t be in there.

I feel my blood drain and my heart empty. Has he left without saying bye; without honouring our promise of midnight? Has he thought, ‘fuck it, I have better things to do than hang out with family and friends that aren’t mine while getting ignored by a teenager crippled with insurmountable insecurities.’ I walk through the shop towards the car park. There aren’t any other places to look after that unless it’s out in the woods and further afield. From what I have seen, he hasn’t had loads to drink, but he’ll be over the limit to drive.  I hope he hasn’t been stupid enough to get behind the wheel.

When I spot his car, I sigh with relief and run up to it. I feel its bonnet and glide my hands over it, moving them slowly up his car’s jet black polished black curves until I am resting my top half on it.

                

I feel its coolness against my cheek and through the thin material of my shirt. I don’t know how long I stay like that. Long enough to realise I am drunk. I flip over on it and stare up at the sky.

 

                

 

I’ll stay here until he comes back to me. I'll wait for as long as it takes. Forever if he wants. And when he comes I’ll apologise for being the way I am. Young and immature. Petulant and insecure. I’ll pull him to me and try to make out with him right here on the hood of his car. No. Who am I kidding. I’d be too scared that someone might see us. I text him instead.

 

_Hi. I’m sitting on your car._

_Come kiss me please._

 

I stare at the message and blink after sending it. Maybe I need to be clearer.

 

_It’s nearly midnight and_

_I’m ready._

 

 

I send it and wait. Almost straight away I get a message. My heart sinks when I see that it isn’t Even and stops when I see who it’s actually from.

 

_You look hot sitting on that car._

_Fancy hooking up tonight?_

 

I look up and around. I can’t see the sender but my heart is beating like crazy.

 

_No._

 

I stand up and make my way back through the coffee shop. I come to an abrupt stop when I see Chris sitting there alone.

“Hi, Isak.”

“I said ‘no’.”

“Relax.” Chris nods. “All I said was hello.”

“Okay. Hello. And bye.”

 

                         

 

He chuckles. “Attitude. Okay.”

“No attitude. I’m just going back to my friends.”

I walk past him, but he grabs hold of my wrist.

“Why have you been avoiding me all night.” He asks.

“I haven't. It’s my birthday and I’ve been busy.”

He lets go.

“Is it because William called you gay boy?”

It’s hilarious really. It’s as if he has forgotten the numerous times that he has done the same.

“I don’t care what William calls me.”

“It was just jokes.”

“I'm really not bothered by name calling. It doesn't reflect badly on me.”

“So why don’t you want to hook up?”

I can see why he is confused. It’s not like I have rejected his advances when we have hooked up a handful of times in the past. That was before today. I have realised how our relationship has been a toxic mind fuck of epic proportions. His actions and my reactions have seeped into my subconsciousness and ruined me. Chris's behaviour towards me has affected how I think people see me and my sexuality. I have pushed Even away as a result.

I remember when Chris came to the kayak shop months ago looking for part time work. He was so friendly with me and it was nice to see a familiar and friendly face after my bust up with Even, so we got talking when I shouldn’t have struck up a conversation with him. I should have declined his offer of a game of one-on-one basketball ‘for the good old days’. And after the game I should have declined his offer to go back to his place to hang out. I should not have let the depression that I was in because of Even cloud my judgement. I should have pushed away when he asked me if I really was gay. Because he was getting vibes. Strong ones. I shouldn’t have been terrified into silence or let the shock of his next move paralyse me into inaction. I shouldn’t have let him touch me; pull down my shorts and blow me.  I shouldn’t have enjoyed it. Why did I? I shouldn’t have given him the power to make me feel like a pervert with a dirty secret when I exploded in his mouth and he said,

“I guess you really are a gay boy.”

He didn't push me away. Not when we were alone. But I shouldn’t have accepted that as good enough. The tiny morsels of attention that came only when it suited him and always hidden away from everyone else. Every encounter felt like a layer of griminess added to my body; shameful dirt that I couldn’t wash off.  Hasty hand jobs in the school’s changing rooms when he snuck in after my basketball practice. Quick blow jobs at his house when no one was home. Never a kiss. Never a word of affection. Never a look of genuine care. How had I grown to presume that was okay? He even said that he was just in it for the fun. For the rush. That he wasn’t ‘gay’. He was just fucking around for the hell of it. And yet when he said ‘jump’, I asked ‘how high?’. And when he treated me like someone he only vaguely knew in public and called me 'gay boy' he eroded any pride I had left even further.  

It’s crazy that it took stepping out into the real world with Even this morning for things to become _crystal_ clear to me.  That I had no pride in who I was. That I was scared to be discovered. That I was embarrassed to reveal myself to my loved ones. That I was scared that they might reject me.

“I want to stop this.” I tell Chris. "Our thing."

He frowns. “It's not a thing.”

"Exactly."

He stands up. "Wait! Why are you taking it so seriously. It's a bit of fun. Where's the harm?”

I take a deep breath because I know that he will laugh in my face at my answer. But that’s okay. His words can’t hurt me.

“It's not what I want anymore. I want more."

He looks taken aback. “More what?"

"Someone who likes me as much as I like him."

"That’s pretty fucking gay.”

“Being pretty fucking gay is not an insult.”

“I know.” He’s sombre. “Of course, I know. What do you think I’ve been doing with you for the last few months? I liked you, okay. Is that what you want to hear? Fine. I admit it. I liked hanging out. I didn’t think I would, but I did.”

Is he being for real or is he pulling my leg? Either way it's irrelevant now. But I give him the benefit of the doubt.

“I don’t know what to say.” I say. “But I’m glad you told me."

"But..."

"But I’m seeing someone now and I’m really happy.”

He bites his lip. I can't read his expression. He bursts out laughing suddenly.

“Nah! Ha! I’m just playing with you! Did you seriously believe that I could like you like that! Funny!”

His mind games are enough for me to vow never to speak with him again.

 

+

 

00.00

 

_Midnight._

__

 

_Where are you?_

 

_Go to Eva. She’ll tell you what_

_to do next._

 

I find Eva still on the dance floor.

“Has he sent you the text?”

I nod so she takes me to a table and hands me a bag and a kayak paddle.

“What’s going on?”

“There’s some waterproof stuff in here to wear on top of your clothes. He’s waiting for you in the water over there.”

“Mum said I shouldn’t get in the water drunk.”

“Mum said I shouldn’t get in the water drunk.” She imitates my voice but with whining. “You'll be fine. You kayak better than you walk."

 

 

+

 

“Hi.”

Even is sitting in the front seat of a two-man kayak on the shallow water, with his kayak paddle resting against the ground to steady it.

"Hi." He smiles up at me. “I was thinking how we haven’t kayaked together in ages.”

"Two years."

“Fancy going for a paddle?"

"I don't know. We won’t see anything.”

He smiles. “The stars are out. We can see those. And I have this thing if we need.” He taps the headlamp on his forehead.

“Sexy.”

“Thanks. I think so. So what do you say?”

"Okay."

"I promise you won’t fall in the water.”

I carefully lower myself into my seat. "I know I won't."

 

                 

 

We begin to paddle. “Where are we going?”

“On an adventure.”

I grin because that is what we have always done. Why would tonight be any different?

We drift away from the noise and havoc of the party towards the peace and quiet of nature. The undulating paced movements of Even’s back as he paddles in front of me are mesmerising. The further we get from the artificial lights the more my eyes adjust to the dark so that I can see detail in our surroundings that were invisible to me minutes ago.

“I kept my distance tonight.” He says as our paddles hit the water in perfect synchrony.

“I hated that.” I clear my throat. “I really missed you.”

“You looked like you were having fun.”

“Not as much fun as I could have had with you.”

He turns to look at me for a second. “You are so confusing.”

“I know.”

“I thought it was what you wanted.  For no one to know.”

“I thought it was too, but it isn't.”

 

+

 

It’s weird how when you approach something from an alternate perspective it can look completely different. Unrecognisable.

As we get close to the familiar rock that extends out into the fjord, it dawns on me where we are.

SURPRISE NUMBER 7.

“It’s the abandoned house.”

He turns around. “Bingo.”

We alight, drag the kayak out of the water and onto the rock. We get out of our waterproof clothes. Even reaches into the kayak, extracts a rucksack from it and flings it over his shoulder.

Feet away from the abandoned house, right where we once had our picnic, is a tent large enough to accommodate four people.

 

                     

 

“Is that ours?”

He nods. “Surprise! Again.”

Wow. Did he do this all himself?

“When did you set this up?”

“Earlier. While you were bowling.”

“You left it here unattended all this time?”

He laughs. “We are literally the only people in the world who come out here, Isak.”

I look around us. I swear that this is the most beautiful corner of the world and it's just Even’s and mine.

He puts down his bag and drops to his knees. “Turn around for a minute.”

“Why?”

He looks at me pointedly, so I grin and turn.

I hear sharp and dull sounds, things being opened, poured, lit, cut. A curse from Even under his breath and then,

“Okay, you can look now.”

 

                                     

 

My eyes immediately go to the cheese. I smile as I drop onto the picnic blanket next to him. “Fuck yeah. Crucolo!”

“Yep!”

I reach over and take a cut piece. It literally melts on my tongue. I close my eyes to savour its taste. Yum. "I'm in heaven!"

Even chuckles. "The candles were Eva's idea. She said it would be romantic.”

He pours some wine but to be honest I think I have maxed out on alcohol today. I have a feeling that if I drink much more I'll end up feeling sick and puking on Even or having to be dragged to the tent intoxicated out of my mind and too far gone for us to _do stuff_.

I leave my glass untouched and polish off the cheese instead.

When I shiver Even goes to the tent and comes back with a dark blanket that he covers us up with. He produces a joint which he lights up and takes a few pulls from.

“I’m nervous.” He whispers as he stares out at the water and taps the ashes.

“Me too.”

“You don’t look nervous.”

He takes another drag of smoke and I watch his every move. The way his fingers hold the joint, the smooth motion as they travel to his lips. The way his mouth purses around it as he inhales and his blue eyes squint a little but stay fixed on me. I open my mouth and lean in close to his lips. He exhales as I inhale, taking his breath and smoke in.

I slowly let my breath out and he nods.

"How did you sort everything for today?"

"How do you mean?

"The cinema and lunch?" 

“It was the night you told me you wanted to be friends.” He pulls his knees up to his chest under the blanket and shakes his head. “You crushed me but then I thought. I can’t feel crappier than this and at least we are friends. So, I called Eva and we mapped out a day for you with the help of your dad.”

He passes me the joint.

“Dad?”

He nods. “He organised the whole party for you.”

“That's intense because I can’t think of the last time my whole family was in one place at one time.” 

He smiles. "Could have been a disaster."

"Yeah. I don't even think mum and dad fought or anything." I think back to the whole day. Honestly I am so grateful. “I have had the best day.” I whisper. 

I kiss rest my head on his shoulder then angle in for a kiss.

"It's not over yet." He pulls me in for another kiss. “Do you want your birthday present now?”

“Isn’t all this my birthday present?”

“No.” He reaches into his pocket and takes out an envelope. “I am going to give this to you, but you have to promise me that you won’t open it until I have dropped you off at home tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“Promise.”

“I promise.” I am literally crossing my fingers as I say that. I am a child. Someone revoke my adult licence.

“Are you crossing your fingers?”

“No.” I nod. "Yes."

He grins. “Isak! Fuck! No. I’m going to hold onto it a little longer then!”  

“What!”

"I can't trust you!"

He kisses me which is unfair because he knows that takes the fight out of me. He throws the blunt aside and pulls me to him, lifts me into his lap so that the blanket tangles around us. He whips his hands around me, presses against my back and takes my breath away until all I can think is, “Yes” and “More please” and “Let’s do it now!”

“Show me the tent.” I whisper when I come up for air.

He jumps to his feet and takes my hand. He unzips the tent. We toe our shoes off and crawl in. It’s dark but I don’t care. I jump him.

 

                

 

I literally pounce on him like a predator who has caught its prey. I pin him down and kiss whatever part of him I can reach and try to remove whatever garment my fingers can feel.

He laughs.

“Shit! Wait! Stop! There’s a jug of water in here somewhere that’s going to spill!”

“A what?!”

He moves and a second later the inside of the tent floods with light from a torch that’s hanging from the ceiling.

“Who puts a jug of water in a tent?”

“Me. I thought we might get thirsty.” He places it in the outer portion of the tent with our shoes while I look around.    

 

                  

 

There are two distinct sleeping corners. Two. Not one. That’s the first thing I notice. Perfectly arranged with a pillow each, folded bath towels and a dark blue blanket on one of them. The other one is outside. Forgotten.

Two.

Twin room. Not double.

I can feel him watching me as my eyes flit between the two spaces.

“What do you think?”

I sit on one of the ‘beds’ and bounce on it.

“Comfortable. I can’t believe you did all this for me.” Because it would be ungrateful of me to say, ‘let’s shove our sleeping mats together because that’s what I want please’.

Does he not want to sleep with me? Is that what’s going down?

“You’re frowning.” He says.

“Why did you make two beds… instead of one?”

“I didn’t want to assume.”

"Well I assumed." I crawl over to him, press a kiss on his lips. I push the two sleeping mats together and fall back onto the double bed I have created. “This is much better.”

He smiles. "Agreed."

He sits next to me and peers down at me. I must look like a ball of eagerness. I resist jumping him like I did moment ago but if he takes his time I may need to go feral and take matters into my own hands again.

He unbuttons his shirt and shrugs out of it then leans down to kiss me. He helps me out of mine. With each button undone he rewards me with a kiss on exposed skin.  I am hard already. It’s the combination of anticipation and lust. I sit up so that I can run my hands over his chest and unbutton and unzip his jeans. He pushes me back so that he can help me out of mine. My underwear goes with them so I'm completely naked, but I have no shame. None at all. Not one part of me feels self-conscious or self-aware.

I help him out of his clothes too and climb into his lap like I did outside.

 

                    

 

We get entangled in one another. Our bodies moulding together. My face nestled into its favourite spot.

 

                    

 

He kisses me deep. Kisses me passionately; lays me down and covers my nakedness with his own, like a human blanket. Our limbs crawl, creep and entwine. I feel the sinews of his muscles as they flex against me. I feel the texture of his skin.

“I have no control with you.” He whispers as he presses a thumb to my lip and runs it along picking up its spit-slicked moisture.

 

                               

 

And I have no control with him.

I flip us over so that I am on top. I want to do everything with him. Everything. Even though I don’t know what everything is.

 

                     

 

What I know is that I want to do stuff to him. I want him to do stuff to me! I feel an avalanche of emotions. Escalating lusty thoughts that start with what we did last night. It opened my mind to how good sex could be and unlocked Pandora’s box.

The way Even is kissing me now, the way he holds me without apology, and the way he looks at me; it feels like the purest form of communication. It feels like we are syncing up. Hitting the same notes. Riding the same wave. If caring and closeness were physical things, I reckon this is what they would look like: an Isak and Even locked in passionate embrace.

As my hands drift down his back and mentally I divide our bodies into distinct parts. Each part is a pawn in our chess game of pleasure. There are countless possibilities of what I can do with my pawns. An infinite number of moves that I can make with his. The only limit is our imagination, our sexual tastes and our physical capabilities. We can rub, kiss, push, lick. Smooth. Taste. Press. Tap. Pinch. Bite. Caress.

He pulls away. “Fuck.”

I am too lust-soaked to stop. I pull him to me again, comb my fingers through his hair, “Kiss me again.”

I rub myself on him and realise that I had already been; getting friction on my dick.

He rolls us so that he is on top again- ours is a fight for control, not over the other but over ourselves. I wrap my arms over his shoulders and kiss him because surely kissing is better than not kissing.  

 

                       

 

He grabs my dick and strokes it. My feet go up intuitively and my knees part so that I can match his strokes with gyrations of my own. I am panting. Heated up. I give him a hand job but not for long. He crawls down and sucks me off. He spits on my hole and rubs against it with his fingers while plunging my cock down his throat until I am putty in his hands.

When I am so close that my whole body is burning he stops. He watches my cock twitch angrily begging for release, but deprived of the final push to make me cum. I hate him and I love him.

He licks my hole. One swoop with his whole tongue. Then repeatedly. I make sounds that are probably scaring the wildlife away. More swoops that rid me of rational thought.

He leaves me, and I look wide eyed at his dick; thick and proud and intimidating. I want it but I have a moment for trepidation. He grabs something in the corner of the tent. Condoms and a bottle.

I take it from him. Lubrication.

Shit. Shit’s getting real.

He takes it from me, uncaps it and pours a generous amount onto his fingers. “I didn’t assume but I thought I should be prepared.” He kisses my neck.

I grip him, kiss him when I feel his fingers between my legs, pressing and pushing closer to my hole. I hold his wrist to gain some control. When he presses in I know with how much pressure.  When he pulls out and rubs the outside to relax me, I have proprioceptive as well as tactile feedback.

“I promise I won’t hurt you.” He whispers.

“I know.”

He pushes in again. Real slow. Real attentive. Scanning my face for any hint of discomfort.

I instinctively push down and I feel myself slowly swallow his finger up. I use my hand to guide his to push into me more. I feel a greater stretch as he glides another digit in with the first. He delves into my depths and sets alight new sensations that I can’t describe except to say that this is nothing like I thought and everything that I hoped. He plunges into me with more conviction, less care and I dig my fingers into his back. I bite my inner cheek. I want to shout out his name.

My eyes snap open when I feel a thicker pressure against me. When did he bag up? I hadn’t even noticed.

This is it.

His head rests against mine as he pushes in. He holds my legs up and back and gives me kisses. Tender kisses while he penetrates me for the first time.

 

                         

 

 

+

 

I wake up in the night to curl up closer to Even.  I have taken the only blanket we have in the tent for myself but he doesn’t seem bothered. He is fast asleep. I don’t wake him but I do take advantage of the situation to study him and run over what we did. How did he manage to make me feel so incredible. How is every part of him everything I want and need? 

   

        

                            

What is the secret recipe that means that my skin tingled and set itself on fire when he touched me? When he was in me?

“Are you checking out my bum?” Even’s voice is sleep soaked.

"I thought you were sleeping."

"I am."

I press up to him. “I was checking more than your bum."

He grunts his reply.

"Aren’t you feeling cold?”

He makes a sound that sounds like a ‘no’. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“Okay.”

“I love you.”

SURPRISE NUMBER 8.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit, Even. You done dropped the L word.


	16. The One With The First Meeting, Planet Talk, Cake and A Trip to Italy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some NSFW pics/drawings.
> 
> "It's been a long day without you, my friend..."
> 
> Where did the time go...? 
> 
> I love the paintings/drawings in this chapter. None are mine. Unfortunately, I can't find the names of the artists in most cases to credit the work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Setteveli cake... yum

**Thirteen Summers Ago- Even**

 

Mum always talks about the village that she grew up in, like, ALL THE TIME. So last year for her Christmas present dad got her a house there. It's in a small village somewhere in the south. We went in January and although everywhere is cold, it was REALLY cold then. They decided that it would be better to return in the summer but that sucks for me because summer is the best season and I want to hang out with my friends during the holidays. They all live in Oslo so the whole thing is a nightmare. Mum's said we'll be in the village for two whole weeks and then abroad for the rest of my holiday. I hate my life right now. I was speaking to my school friends and they said that probably the only thing to do in the village will be fishing which will be cool for exactly one day then it'll be boring.

Anyway, when we got to the village three days ago, Mum was giggly and happy and hugging dad and pinching my cheeks and telling me how she is sure that I will grow to like it even though I know I won’t.

It is lonely and my parents quickly realise that. So we have done lots of different activities; hiking, fishing, swimming in the pool, going to the cinema, eating at different restaurants, going to parties at their friends’ houses.  And it is cool but there are hardly any other kids to hang out with.

I always wonder what it would be like to have a brother or sister when I am alone like this. It would be nice I bet.

One day, Mum and Dad take me to a kayak place near the fjord. It’s only been open a few months. The people who work there are a married couple, younger than my parents. I know that because my mum whispers to my dad when we walk through a door to a shop that is smaller than my bike shed in Oslo.

“Aren’t they a beautiful young couple?”

Dad says, “How do you know they are together?”

They are by the way. I know that because their names are Martin and Julia Valtersen. Unless they are brother and sister but that isn’t so because they have a son. A boy sitting in a corner of the room. I almost missed him. He is completely quiet and small. He blends into the background.

He is younger than me but I haven’t seen many kids so this is better than nothing so I am interested.

“That’s my son. He’s an only child too.” Martin says to me. “His name is Isak.”

I stare at him. He is swinging his legs while reading a book that looks about his size.

I walk up to him and extend my hand. “Hi Isak. My name is Even.”

He looks at me like I have a bogey in my nose or something. So I check and I don’t. “What are you reading?”

“A book.”

I roll my eyes. OBVIOUSLY he’s reading a book. He closes it and stares at me again so I check my nose again. Still no bogey.

“How old are you?” He asks.

“Nine. How old are you?”

“Five years and…” He starts counting his fingers and the book drops to the floor. “...and eight days.”

I pick it up and hand it back to him.

I turn to eavesdrop on my parent’s conversation with Isak’s parents.

  * “... they seem to be getting on…”
  * “... for about two hours a day…”
  * “...constant supervision…”
  * “...something to do…”
  * “...the water’s safe…”



“I can read really well.” Isak says to get my attention again. “I’m the best in my class.”

“Yeah?”

He nods.

“Okay.” I folded my arms across my chest. “Read something to me.”

+

My first kayak lesson is fun. I have it with Martin. He makes funny jokes and is cool if I splash water around and get him wet. I barely see Isak. He plays lego on the grass next to the fjord while his mum works in the bike shed/shop.

+

Every morning I have kayak classes and see Isak but every time I say ' _hi'_ he hides behind something next to him. One time it’s the chair, a few times it’s his mum and once it’s behind a tree.

Mum and dad are glad that I enjoy kayaking and that there is somewhere they can leave me without getting into a panic. I guess they trust Martin because at school one of our teachers showed us a video of how easy it is to drown and die in water.

+

One time, Isak is playing with two other kids his age while Martin and I cross the grass towards the water.

“Hi.” I say as usual.

Like normal, he hides. This time it’s behind one of his friends until I turn my face to look at Martrin. What Isak doesn’t know is that I can still see him. It’s called PERIPHERAL VISION. Dad told me about it.

So I can tell that he is back to playing when he thinks I'm not looking.

“That’s Jonas and Eva.” Martin says but he doesn’t stop to introduce us.

They are having so much fun even though I don't think I get the point of their game. Isak and Eva are running around Jonas in circles and laughing like lunatics; like someone is tickling their armpits.

Martin chuckles. “You look like you want to join them.”

Oh. Woops. I stopped using my peripheral vision. I was full on looking at them. DIRECTLY.

I shrug like I don’t care.

“They are playing _Planets_.” Martin says.

Never heard of that game.

“It’s Isak’s invention. They take turns being the sun and the other two are planets that run around the sun until they feel dizzy and fall down. The first one to fall loses.”

“Loses what?”

His dad shrugs.

Isak looks so happy he might pass out. I want to feel that happy. I want to hang out with friends. Instead I follow his dad to the water.

“Even!”

I turn around. I am shocked because Isak has called my name. It’s the first time he has talked to me since the first day.

His wave is so big and wide that his whole body swings when his arm sways. I smile and wave back.

“Do you want to play with us?”

“Yes!” It comes out of my mouth quickly.

“He can’t, kid. He has a lesson.” His dad says. “Remember, mummy and me told you not to ask him. His parents pay for him to come here and paddle.”

Isak ignores his dad and shouts at me, “You can be the sun because you’re so big!”

+

The time after that, he comes up to me after my kayak session is over and asks if I want to play with him. Without other friends in the village my immediate reply is,

“Yes. Play what?”

He shrugs. I guess _Planets_ isn’t a game for two.

His dad says, “I know Even wants to play with you but he has to get back to his parents. Lisen is here to pick him up.”

Isak comes out to the parking lot with me and his dad. There is only one car parked there. Last night while we were eating dinner mum said that it’s because their business isn’t booming yet but apparently that is the nature of small businesses and things may start to get better. Then Lisen brought out dessert so I stopped listening closely to what mum was saying but I remember something about her planning to help the Valtersens with some business advice.

Martin says, “Your dad’s car is very very nice, Even.”

“That’s mum’s car.” I say as Lisen steps out of it. I look at it. I don’t know. Is it a nice car? What makes a nice car? Actually, I know what makes a nice car.

I smile at Isak and say, “I want to tell you something. In secret.”  

He looks intrigued then looks at his dad who nods. So I run behind the car, away from adult ears. When Isak joins me, he follows my lead and crouches down.

“I am going to tell you something that is super cool but you can’t let anyone else know.”

His eyes get as big as saucers. “I can tell dad and mum?”

I think about it. “Only if they ask.”

“Okay.”

I whisper. “When a car thinks that you are not looking it transforms!”

His jaw drops then he thinks. “What’s transform?”

“It changes into something else.”

“Wow!”

“Do you want to know what it transforms into?”

He nods so fast that I think his head might fall off.

“A robot.”

He touches the car. “This car?”

“Maybe. It only happens to special cars.”

“Wow!”

“I know.”

He stares at my mum’s car.

“I told you. It only happens when you are not looking.”

“Then how will I see it tr-ta-tansfam?”

I smile. “You have to use your peripheral vision. Like in basketball when you are seeing without looking, you know?”

“No.”

I rub his hair and he smiles. “Will you be my friend, Even?”

“Yes.”

+

After the small village in Norway my parents and I go on holiday to Italy to visit friends of theirs. We stay at their summer home in a town called Positano on the Amalfi coast.

               

On our first night we have dinner in the garden looking out at the sea. It’s called the Mediterranean. My parents have promised me that the neighbours have kids my age that I can hang out with after we eat.                

               

Italians take a long time to eat. Much longer than back home in Norway. It takes TWO HOURS before dessert comes. Their maid bring us out cake and everyone stops speaking.

               

“You remember the _S_ _etteveli_ cake?” My parent’s friend asks.

She says it in the same way Isak said ‘wow’ to me when I told him about cars transforming. As if it is the best thing ever.

Mum and dad also act like ‘wow’.

I don’t see the fuss. It is a rectangle of cake on a plate, which is good but it’s not really as awesome as the idea of transforming cars.

“He’s not tried it before, has he?”

“No,” dad says.

They all chuckle.

“He’ll see,” they say about me as if I am not there.

See what? I wonder.

“Well.” The Italian man friend speaks to me really slowly in English. “This cake is called _setteveli_ cake and this is the best _setteveli_ cake you will eat on the coast! Eat, eat, eat! _Mangia! Vedrai!_ ” Eat! You’ll see!

I take my first bite like it’s no big deal. I put my fork down the second I taste the sweetness on my tongue. Mum laughs at me. Dad pats my shoulder.

“I know. I was the same the first time. _Buono. No_?” Nice, no?

I nod but I feel like nodding is not enough.

I was not prepared for this cake. They should have warned me. Isak pops into my head in that moment. Weird. I think it’s because when I first saw him I barely noticed him but actually when I got to speak to him he was so much more than he showed on the outside. Like this cake. My hands are shaking. My heart is racing. I swear a stray bit of drool nearly comes out of the corner of my mouth. I take another bite and another. I want to hug my _setteveli_. Pick it up and lick it. Swim in its layers.  

Every bite is unique, a bit like Lisen's ‘special soup’ that's different each time. This cake doesn’t taste like it looks. It looks normal. Like I could forget it. But it’s taste is unforgettable.

“What’s in it?” I ask. So many textures and flavours.

Ganache, mousse, cream, sponge, cereal, chocolate, hazelnut, praline. I am told. I don't know what half of those things are but I am going to find out.

I am halfway through. I don’t want it to end but I can’t stop. I want it. Me and my _setteveli_. When can I eat it again? I will miss it so much once the last bite melts to nothing on my tongue. Can we get it in Oslo? I feel like even though it is in front of me I am missing it as if it is already gone. I hunch over my plate, shoulders on the table.

Mum tuts but she doesn’t understand. I want a moment alone with my cake.

My cake.

Mine!

My precious _setteveli_!

I lick my fork clean and close my eyes in pleasure savouring every second, millisecond, microsecond with it.

 

+++

 

**This Summer- Even**

 

“Stop!” Isak laughs.

I smile and lick him again.

“Stop, Even!” Isak purrs as he rushes his hands through my hair.

“Why stop?” I whisper against his wet warm skin.

He shudders and pushes my face closer to him, acting against his words. He murmurs. “Tickles.”

“Okay, I’ll stop.”

He shakes his head and sighs, “Actually don’t.”

So I lick the area of skin where his leg meets his groin again. He’s musky there and cummy and a little sweaty and fucking delicious.

Where else has his cum ended up? Oh yeah. The other side. Lick. His lower stomach and belly button. Lick. The tip of his cock which is still hard and charged from recent ejaculation. Lick. He shudders at that. Jerks as an errant aftershock zaps through him. He’s so fucking hot when he comes and when he comes down from it.

My hand has got some cum on it too and there’s some on my chest. I swipe two fingers over it, gather it up and lick it. “Fuck. This is a meal.” I breathe as though exasperated.

His peel of laughter is a joy to my senses so I stuff my mouth against his balls and murmur, “Empty balls.”

He scoffs. “Haha.”

It feels like my senses are his and his are mine. He goes red when I kiss his cock. It’s beginning to lose it’s firmness and return to rest. His body follows, mellowing out as his muscles lose tone and he rests back on our makeshift bed, shamelessly, his legs still open as his eyes close.

He wasn’t so relaxed when he woke me up, with the light of the morning streaming through the partially open front flap of our tent. His fingers skimmed over my skin and when that didn’t get my attention he poked me hard in the ribs. I opened my eyes and adjusted my sight to the relative dimness of our space. There were echoes of last night’s love making in our tent. The higgledy piggledy arrangement of our sheets and mats. My shirt, dirtied by using it to clean up our bodies after. It was rolled into a ball and tossed into a corner. My muscles had a dull post-workout ache. And Isak… his unruly, tousled hair, lazy smile, kiss swollen lips, love bits and bruised dewy flushed skin confessed our love making. His body, vulnerable and bare, was lying next to me with a leg draped over mine.

He walked two fingers up my side. A explorative walk on my flesh.

             

I smiled, nuzzled in close to him and whispered hello but he didn’t want my hellos or niceties.

‘How was last night?’

‘Do want breakfast?’

I didn’t get a chance to ask those questions because he crushed our lips together. A collision of our bodies. Complete abandon to remind me of how intimate, trusting and lacking in inhibition he was last night. As if I needed reminding. 

“Sleep well?” I whispered.

He nodded and climbed on top of me. He kissed me urgently; sending out an S.O.S. to my carnal senses. He was done sleeping but he wasn’t ready to get out of bed yet.  

His movements were slow and deliberate as he enticed me. Offering me a bite of his cake. A second taste after last night. This time his kisses were deeper. His touch was more bewitching. His hips rolled over mine with aching seduction. He was rubbing my cock awake. I stroked his while he gave me layer upon layer of pleasure. I craved him. I wanted to break this experience down to seconds, milliseconds, microseconds so that I could fully savour every single bit of what we had. I wanted him immediately and immeasurably. I wanted to rush ahead and yet I never wanted it to end. Even though he was right here with me, at my fingertips, in my arms, I craved him as though he wasn’t. I wanted him to be mine.

My hands said as much to him as I traced over his body.

Your lips. Mine.

Your throat. Mine.

That bit behind your ear. Mine.

The wisp of hair that insists on pointing up even when I try to pat it down. Mine.

Your belly button. Your big toe when it curled up when I hit that spot. Your arched back. Your hard cock. Your tight willing ass hole. MINE.

I was also saying, ‘And I am yours.’

He pressed down on me, pushing me into the mats and kissed me. He reached back to stroke my dick and rub it against himself. Such a tease. My hand reached its destination. Was this what he wanted? Me touching him there, circling his opening? Lightly yet deliberately as if asking a question; can I be in you again? Please?

I smeared whatever lube was left there that I hadn’t rubbed off earlier. He stroked my cock while I coated his hole. A silent communication of intent. Isak spit on his hand and scooted down my body so that he could watch as he used it to wet my dick. I watched him jerk me off. He revealed more of himself. His naivety. His willingness to learn. He ripped into a condom packet and then stared at the ring of rubber with uncertainty. Which way was up? He passed it to me and looked intently as I checked it then placed it on the tip of my dick. His eyes tracked my hands, learning, as I unrolled the latex down its length. His hands replaced mine half way down, finishing the job. He squeezed a few drops of lube on it then smoothed it all over it’s length, then climbed me. Pushed down on me. Not a sound. His wet tight pressure engulfed me, pulled me in. Once again, we were one.

His gasp when he was fully seated on me. A sound somewhere between pleasure and pain. He looked down on me, firm lines and grace. I held his hips as he rode me. As he leaned over to share my air, lips pressing, uttering sounds of encouragement. He pushed us towards mutual gratification and I acquiesced. I was too caught up in the feeling of being in him to dominate. I was happy to be guided, to be led as long as I knew that what I felt for him, he felt for me too.

Isak’s eyes were free-falling. Hazy with lust and passion as they connected with mine. His body spurred on. Sighs and moans. Rise and fall. The pace picking up until I clasped his hips and stilled him. I kissed him and that bought me time because it was too good and it was going to end too soon if he carried on like that. So we kissed and I felt for the point where we were connected, felt the stretch of him around me. I slowly drove up into him. My turn. Slowly at first. Thrusts that filled him up languidly. Thrusts that took their time until his unwavering grip on my cock, that tight welcome constraint, was an invitation to a climax I could not refuse. I went harder than the first time we made love. Deeper. Our bodies bonded further. His arms around me were firmer, the harder I fucked him. I was in love with the sounds he made and the disinhibited fluency of his movements. I was in love with how he didn’t think to play it cool. I was in love with his need for intimacy, his quest for connection. It didn’t feel like _fucking_ . It felt like a _union_ of our bodies and souls. Talking without talking. A way for me to tell him who I am and what he is to me.  

His climax arrived unprompted and unannounced. He planted himself flush on me, completely engulfing me as he ejaculated on his stomach, on me, rivulets running down either side of his groin. The rhythmic contractions of his muscles made me pour out of myself and into him. He broke me with his body. Destroyed my soul. Devastated me with his disinhibition. I was in love with that too; with the feeling of being owned by him. 

Our breaths were harsh as we held on to each other and floated down from our climaxes. He collapsed onto me, spent and boneless. It took me time to gather enough strength to roll him over and pull out gently. He watched in fascination as I tugged the loaded condom off, bagged it up and placed it on my poor used shirt. I crept down his body as he looked on. Licking. Getting a taste of him. Groin, lower stomach. Belly button. Dick. I wiped his cum from my chest with my fingers and licked them. My new favourite dessert.

+

“Fuck. This is a meal.” I say.

He smiles so I stuff my face into his balls and whisper, “Empty balls.”

“Haha.” He spreads himself out. Open. Tired, sexy eyes aimed at me. He indicates for me to lie down and wraps his arms around me when I settle next to him.

“What time is it?”

“Don’t know. Morning sometime.”

He pushes his leg against mine so I smooth my hand over its warm contours.

“We should be heading back soon. Right?” He asks.

“We don’t have to. We could move here and never go back.”

He smiles. “We could.”

“And live off the earth.”

“I could go hunting in the forest while you catch fish with your bare hands in the water.”

I laugh. “We’d probably starve.”

“Not if we bring Tiny to help us.”

“True.”

“But then you wouldn’t work in our country’s top property development company and wear sharp suits.”

“And you wouldn’t become Norway’s first ever astronaut.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not going to happen.” He sighs. “But it’s a cool idea. Staying here, I mean.” He looks at me point blank. “But Mum’s in town.”

I nod. “Mums are important.”

“I should hang out with her.” Does he know that he is tracing patterns on my skin? “I am not even sure where she’s staying.”

“She told me she was staying at your place.”

He frowns. “No.”

“That’s what she told me.”

“I think you heard wrong. She wouldn’t stay with dad.” He shakes his head. “And dad said we were having other family members over.”

The back of his hand meets my morning cheek fuzz. He takes his time feeling its texture against his skin, looking like he wants to say something. It’s written all over his face, but doesn’t come out.

“What?” I ask softly.

I clock a wince, gone as quickly as it appears on his face. Was too rough with him? Did I hurt him when I was in the throws of passion? “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” He squirms a little. “No.”

“Shit.”

“Shut up.” He grins. “I’m just a bit sore.”

I nudge his hip. “I can check.”

“Huh?”

“I can check your…” My eyebrows go up and down.

He scrunches up his face. “No!”

He scoots in closer to me and throws the blanket to one side and white sheet over our bodies. “I was thinking.”

“Always…”

“Yes, but this time about, you know, this.”

                

“This?”

“This.” He slides his body against mine.

Ah yes. “This.”

He presses his lips to mine and gets the fading taste of himself on his tongue. “This is really fucking cool.”

“This tent thing?”

He nods.

“This naked thing?” I whisper.

He nods again. Sultry as fuck.

“And this sex thing?” I add.

“Yes.” It’s barely a word. More a breath of air. “It was really nice.”

I breathe his words in and whisper back. “It was more than really nice for me.” I kiss him. “It was hot…you are so hot...”

His belly growls loudly with hunger- convex and defined, smooth and tanned. What timing! The noise reverberates through the tent.

We meet eyes and burst into laughter. He’s hungry and so am I. Breakfast seems like a great idea. Breakfast out somewhere because I have the urge to be seen with him. To show him off to the world. To have people assume that we are a thing. To be who we are outside the confines of four walls.

I am proud of him. Every single inch of him.

“Do you want to jump in the water with me?” I ask.

“The water?”

I nod. “Clean up before we go someplace to get a bite to eat? Then I can drive you to your mum.”

He looks at me like I’ve gone mad. “It’ll be fucking freezing in the fjord.”

“It’ll be fucking fun.” I challenge.

He smiles when I sit up and face him.

                    _(finnyred)_

It’s both fucking freezing and fun.

+

 

                                 ( _finnyred)_

 

                 

                 

                 [](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/UzmXJvB8KsY/maxresdefault.jpg)

 

                                 

Isak's mum is MIA. He tries calling her on our way to breakfast and ends up leaving two messages on her phone.

“Mum. It’s your son, Isak. Remember the one who has just had his eighteenth birthday? Your only child! Anyway, I just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out since you’re here. You _are_ still around, aren’t you? Call me back please. Love you. Bye.”

“MUUUUUMMMMM! Where are you? It’s Isak. Bye.”

He has better luck with his dad after we finish eating a huge breakfast- he can’t decide on one pastry so we get a huge selection and eat them all- in a coffee shop in a nearby village. He fires off a text while I drive us back to the village.

“I’m just telling him thanks for the party.”

“And that you’re alive. Parents like to know that.”  I glance at him.

“They’re so needy.”

I smile. “So needy.”

He reads his dad’s reply.

“Tore has snitched on us.” He mutters. “He told dad that we went kayaking last night. Dad’s asking where and if we used night lights.”

I smile.

“I’m not telling him about our secret hideout.” I like the way he says that so earnestly. _Our_. He smiles as he rapidly types a reply. “I’ll just tell him we camped out in the woods.”

He looks at me when a further message comes through. “He’s got a busy day ahead. He’s getting the new car then he has a bunch of other shit to do. So we can do our thing. Hang out together.”

“This is awkward.”

“Why?”

“I kind of made other plans. I thought you’d be with your mum so.”

He looks deflated. His emotion, right there, at skin level. No attempt to hide it.

"Kidding. I’m free.”

His hand crosses the gear stick and settles high on my thigh, a deliberate caress. It’s enough to nearly make me drive off the road. I use every ounce of self control to keep my eyes looking ahead and my mind on safety.

“Let’s have a proper shower.” He whispers.

He does come up with good ideas.

“My place?” I ask.

“Yes.”

+

We spend three days almost exclusively together. Three days that dissolve before our eyes in a beautiful puff of magic.

    _(finnyred)_      

           

         

         

 

     

Isak is my focus, the centre of my orbit, exerting a magnetic energy that attracts me to him.

            

I should, out of courtesy, see friends of the family that holiday around the same time in the area. It’s what mum and dad would expect of me. But I am too caught up in him.

If he is worried about what his parents and friends might think about him staying over at my place all this time, he doesn’t show it. He almost completely ignores his phone after sending out texts and voice messages letting them know where he is. Knowing Isak, this is probably his tactic. A calculated move to reveal the truth to his dad without having to say a word. But also knowing him, he is just living in a fantasy bubble that he is not yet ready to burst.

We swim in the pool. Take hikes. Dine out and eat in. Listen to music. Break up heated debates on matters of life, death, science and art with kisses and sex. We talk on the possibility of life on other planets. We discuss the fall of the Classical Period Empires. He forces me to take a jog with him and I let him get behind the driver’s seat of my car to take a slow cruise around my neighbourhood. The clutch is probably fucked now but my heart is full. His look of concentration was fucking adorable.

“I like it medium to well.” He determines when we ruminate on the best way to eat steak.

“Ugh.” I feign serious disappointment. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” The only way to eat steak is rare. FACT.

“Vampire.” He whispers against my neck then nibbles me.

There’s a lot of time spent in bed or lounging together on a couch in my reception room or in the game room. We ‘watch’ shitty action movies at his insistence. We ‘binge’ on TV shows also at his insistence. It’s an excuse. He’s more _Netflix_ and chill than couch potato. Ten minutes in and I feel his hands on me. I’m not complaining. I’m bragging. We have baptised almost every room in my living quarters.

We get out of the house on my insistence. He’s hot and the sex is lip-bitingly good but I have one dick, one heart and a finite amount of energy.

That’s not to say I have had my fill of him. I can’t get enough of how he looks, how he looks at me, how he feels in my arms.  I love the way his mind thinks and the way he speaks. I am intrigued by the things he has to say.

He is an _over_ thinker and ruminates over the most distant things. For example, out of the blue, after a swim we chat in hushed voices while lying under a sweltering sun in the garden drying out in our swimming trunks.

He reminds me of summer four years ago.

“Do you remember?” He asks.

“Which part?”

“Those guys from the basketball team who were being dicks?”

“The assholes in the year above you?”

He sighs. “Yeah.”

A couple of guys from his team had managed to figure out his phone password while they were getting changed after a game. They saw something (undisclosed) that resulted in Isak being the butt of cruel jokes, taunts and banter that bordered on harassment. It was enough for him to blurt out to me that he was close to quitting the basketball team that year.

We bumped into them in the village four years ago. Isak had just turned fifteen.

‘Hey, gay boy!’ One of them shouted from across the street and then peeled with laughter.

‘Is that your boyfriend?’ The other asked.

‘I’m not gay!’ Isak’s tan complexion turned pale.

‘Is that supposed to be funny?’ I shouted back at the guys. ‘Or clever? Calling someone gay?’

They just laughed. Fuckers with no intelligence. ‘So you bagged a rich one! Your dad must be soooo proud.’

I opened my mouth to bite back but Isak pulled me away.

‘Don’t.’ He muttered. The glassy hue of his eyeballs gave away his unspent tears.

‘Fuck ‘em.’ I said.

 _What irony_ , I thought at the time as we bundled into my car, dad’s old BMW. These assholes were calling Isak out on his sexuality when I had just spent the last few months coming to terms with mine and vowing that when I started uni in a couple of months I was finally going to start being honest about who I was attracted to.

I nearly told him then- _by the way, I fucking hate labels but I can get into dudes and chicks._

But I didn’t. Maybe it was because of the emphatic way in which Isak had denied being gay.

I spotted one of those guys later that day. He was alone and lacking the bravado he showed when he was with his friend. I went up to him and, uncharacteristically of me, I threatened him. If he fucked with Isak he was fucking with me and he didn’t want to know the consequences of rubbing me up the wrong way. Taking full advantage of my height and voice, I presented enough of a physical menace to see him submit to me and cower away in defeat.

Although Isak never knew, he told me later that things got better. The banter from those team mates was still there but the sting was taken out. Life on the team was manageable.

“What made you think of them?” I ask him as I pull him to me on the grass.

He stares me down, long and hard, enough to unbalance me. But then he shakes his head and gives me a smile bright and warm enough to melt both ice poles.

“Nothing. Stupid something.”

+

On day three, next to the unlit fire pit at the back of the house, I remind him of the game he used to play with his friends.

“Planets.”

“Oh God!” He covers his face with shame. “And I asked you to join us to be the sun once, didn’t I, because…”

“You’re so big, Even!” I imitate young Isak’s voice. High and squeaky.

“I didn’t sound like that!”

“You did!”

He grabs my cock through my swimming trunks, rubs it and murmurs, “You’re so big, Even.”

Fuck. He’s a heart attack risk. “That way is so much better.”

He is wordless. He gives me a kiss then pushes up my t-shirt. Kisses my nipple. Takes my t-shirt off. It’s not decorum. It’s sun protection. He, on the other hand, has been in either just swimming trunks or nothing for the last three days. He pushes off my costume and throws it aside. He delves into my crotch and sucks me off, nice and slow. The lush green of the summer flora, the sound of fauna from the adjacent woods, the bright heat of the sun above us. The warmth and pressure of Isak’s mouth engulfing me. It’s fucking perfect.

I stroke his hair when I have cum and he goes to rest his head on my stomach facing me. Lazy, lazy, lazy afternoon. Like a lullaby. We both look at my swimming shorts which he has somehow flung into the branches of the nearest tree. They are dangling there in the mild breeze.

We smile at each other.

"How did you do that?"

"I don't know."

The shorts that he has borrowed off me are a little too big for him at the waist. Easy to get my hand in there to cup a bum.

“Imagine if Lisen dropped by and saw us right now.” He says.

“She wouldn’t bat an eyelid. She’d probably complain about the mess we’ve made and run a mop with disinfectant over us.”

He grins and air is knocked out of my lungs. That’s when I know. Or maybe I already knew. Or maybe I don’t really know.

_‘I love you.’_

It echoes in my head like a recent memory. Spoken by me. Shit! They were words spoken by me!  That night in the tent!

FUCK!

Does he remember or was he half asleep too? Has he forgotten? Please. Hopefully. It was way too premature. Not because I don't mean it but who the fuck says _I love you_ when they haven't even really started dating yet? For someone who is constantly labelled 'cool' I am constantly proving to be the opposite.

The word isn’t the point anyway. The point is the feeling. It’s a strange feeling that Isak elicits in me; like riding a bike without learner wheels for the first time. It’s the best thing ever, like I’ve sprouted wings and can fly. I feel as big as the universe, a bit scared and uncertain yet excited, boundaryless and indestructible.  

It’s how I felt a few nights ago, in the forest by the fjord, curled up next to him in the tent. Somewhere between asleep and awake. It was the happiest I had ever felt up until that point and those three words slipped out.

I hope he doesn’t judge me for them. They’re just words.

I kiss his forehead, then his nose, then his mouth. I feel his grin against my lips.

“I want to ask you something.” I ask.

“Shoot.”

“How come you only offered to play _Planet_ with me when your friends were there?”

He thinks. “I don’t know. I was five, Even.”

I smile.

“But now I would play it with you.” He says.

“One planet orbiting the sun?”

“Yeah.”

“I want to know how that happens.” I say.

"Okay." He makes a move to stand up.

“No, I mean, explain why the Earth doesn’t just whizz off into space. What makes it stay connected to the sun?”

“Seriously, you want to know?”

I nod.

He settles back onto me and lays a hand on my cheek. “It’s very sciency.”

“Then dumb it down for me.”

“But like I need PowerPoint and graphics.”

I laugh.

“Okay. Pick a planet.” He says.

“Pluto.”

He rolls his eyes. “Pluto is not a planet. God, this is going to be so hard.”

“Since when is Pluto not a planet?”

“2006. It _was_ called a planet for like 76 years but then it got reclassified because astronomers discovered bigger celestial objects in the solar system. So now it’s classified as a dwarf planet.”

“Astronomy is cut throat.”

“Yeah. I love it.” His eyes widen. Fucking cute.

“But a dwarf planet still orbits the sun like a normal planet because the Sun’s mass is so big.” Dick joke. “It creates a huge gravitational field that pulls Pluto to it. It’s beyond Pluto’s control because in comparison to the sun, it’s gravitational field is tiny. So the Sun is the centre of Pluto’s universe.”

Is it weird that I get turned on by him talking science?

“Pluto, and planets in the solar system, go around the Sun in an ellipse. That’s Kepler’s first law. I won’t bore you with the detail. Pluto gets warmer and brighter the closer it gets to the Sun. Kepler’s second law says that the closer a planet gets to the Sun the faster it moves.”

 

                    _(NASA)_

“So the closer a planet gets to the Sun the faster, warmer and brighter it is.” I summarise.

“Exactly. I can give you a demonstration."

"Please."

He presses himself up to me. "Say I'm Pluto and you're the Sun, now that I'm really close to you my heart goes faster. That's like me, as a planet, revolving around you quicker. And I feel warmer and brighter because I am closer to you too. See?"

"Yes." It comes out like a croak so I clear my throat. "Yes."

"Kepler’s third law-”

“How many laws are there?”

“Just Three. Number 3 says that the closer you are to the Sun the faster you’ll orbit around it. So Earth, for example, goes round the Sun faster than Pluto which is further away.”

                  

“So it pays to be close to the Sun.”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“Who the Sun is.”

“You.” I kiss him. Pure energy.

                    

                  

“You’re cheesy.” He whispers with a smile.

“You’re so fucking smart I can’t take it.”

He likes hearing that. “You’re smart too.”

Maybe, but I’m nowhere near as elastic brained as he is or as capable to take in, retain and process information and come up with something new.

“Isn’t Pluto one of the Roman Gods?” He asks.

“Are you throwing me a bone?”

His eyes are wide. “No.”

“Pluto is the Greek god of the Underworld.”

“Oh shit. That's dark.”

“The Roman god equivalent is Dīs Pater but their etymology is similar. _Dīs Pater_ in Latin means ‘father of riches’ and _Pluto_ in Greek means wealthy. Money and possessions were associated with the underworld. Bad things.”

“That seems unfair.”

“I thought you’d like that fact.”

“You can’t lump people into one hole just because they share a single thing in common.” He takes my hand. “Rich people can be kind. Poor people can be assholes.”

I smile. “You’ve changed your tune.”

He shrugs. “Maybe a bit. ”

“Dis Pater’s or Pluto’s brothers were Jupiter and Neptune and their father was Saturn. The Romans named the planets after their gods."

"Isn’t it random that I like astronomy and you are into the history of Roman civilisation and that the two are kind of linked.”

I am not sure I see it as random. Isak and I have existed in the same bubble over the years. He has bled into me and I have bled into him without being conscious of it. We are opposite sides of the same coin; scientific and creative. Different yet the same.

“Even!”

It’s Lisen. Shit! I didn't hear the front gate open.

I get to my feet and try grab my swimming shorts from the high tree branch they have got stuck in. Isak giggles at me while I jump; all red skin and flopping dick.

I can’t get to them so I grab my t-shirt, cover my crotch and hiss at him,

“Distract her while I go to my room to put some clothes on.”

I run into the house through the library but not before hearing Lisen say,

“Boys! Isak! I bumped into your parents at the grocery store. If you don’t want to get in any more trouble with them then you better answer their calls and get over there for dinner tonight!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit saccharine? Perhaps so...  
> Where's the envelope???


	17. The One Where Isak Tries To Come Out and His Secrets Catch Up With Him And His Bubble Bursts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm the middle of revision and exam stress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time (a record long time?)

**This Summer- Isak**

 

These last three days spent in each other’s company feel delicate, like fragile bubbles; like the bubbles that formed from the shower gel which foamed up with the rub of Even’s hands against my skin in the shower we just shared. Those balls of air floated off my body before exploding without a trace reminding me that what Even and I have right now could also disappear in an instant. Bubbles only exist if the conditions are perfect. Alter those conditions and the bubble is gone. Forever.

That’s why instead of getting dressed after showering, I have flopped onto Even's bed, folded in one of his fluffy white bath towels, and vowed to myself that we will never leave his villa and it's perfect conditions. Even, on the other hand, is standing next to his wardrobe, his back to me, rummaging around for clothes to wear.

His hair is already in perfect shape after being subjected to a long complex sequence of events that baffle me. His hair fixation is hilarious. I have watched him half dry his hair then finger comb some cream/gel/gooey stuff from a fancy small pot into it then blow dry it until totally dry then put more cream/gel/gooey stuff from another fancy pot into it and comb it using a brush AND his fingers until he was happy with the look.

Honestly, I think he looks great even if he just leaves it alone. I like what I see when I look at him. I could waste my life away looking at the way he moves and speaks and is. As he picks out a shirt I adjust myself in his bed to get more comfortable while ogling him.

“Why do you take so long to decide what to wear?” I ask him.

I like when he looks at me; how his eyes track my every move, how he studies my lips when I speak, how he searches my eyes for the true meaning behind my words and manages to decipher me. Always.

“You think I’m vain?”

“Your words.”

He smiles. “I’m not. I’m just aiming for presentable. Can't all be naturally handsome like you.”

That makes me scoff a laugh because it’s obviously a lie- he is so much hotter than me.

He turns his attention back to the wardrobe and picks out more tops. “Are you going to give me a hand?”

I smile. "No."

I have been so happy these last few days. The universe has granted me a wish I have never admitted I had. I wanted a relationship with Even that eclipsed what we had already developed over the years and I’ve got it.

As he tries on one top after another I observe his slim yet toned shoulders, back, arms and neck. Memories from a couple of hours ago, far from polite and broadcastable, flash into my mind. His weight on top, chest flush against my back, driving into me. The smell and heat of his skin pushed right up against mine. The firmness of his arms around me. The taste of his insistent lips and the fullness of his cock in me. The building tension. Our beating hearts and fast breaths. His sweat falling onto me. Our bodies’ rhythms in perfect sync. Almost animalistic. Raw and unabashed.

Even. My tall lanky crush from the city who I started fancying before I knew what fancying was. My defender who I secretly and not so secretly idolised growing up. My sort of friend who I gradually, unexpectedly and secretly developed deeper feelings for. Ones that I kept buried even from myself; ignoring mounting evidence such as my heart jolting when he looked at me. Or that him saying ‘Hi, Isak’ felt like the best thing ever spoken by someone ever. Or that when he gave me a benign pat on my back or ruffled my hair, and I would have to move away to avoid melting into a puddle of need.

Until last year he positioned himself as my brother-slash-friend. Now he puts a beautiful knot in my stomach and makes my body feel like it has been lit on fire.

Sex with him is deliciously messy; wet with human spit, sweat and lube. It’s unpredictable, intimate, occasionally uncomfortable, immeasurably pleasurable, endlessly addictive, overwhelming tender, frantically adrenalised, impulsive. It’s irrational and expressive. It’s revealing and exposing and I am not talking about the physical, although that too. I am talking about the soul. It rips my flesh apart and uncovers my deepest desires. I go on instinct and learn and I learn because I am unembarrassed. I felt, feel, so naive but at the same time I know exactly what I want and what turns me on. And with Even I know that practice makes perfect, that there is joy in discovery and there is connection in exploration and lessons in mistakes.  He makes me feel so fucking good. So fiercely desired. Head to toe. And he feels so good that I can’t filter my actions or guard my words and expressions when we are into it.

Is this what sex is for everyone? A mirror reflecting a person’s truest and most disinhibited form?  

“What are you thinking about?” Even asks with his back turned to me.

“Nothing.”

He turns around.

“Liar. Your cheeks are red. I could see them through the mirror.”

Fuck it. Okay. “Us.”

“Us?”

I nod.

 _Us_ . That word sounds good. _You and me, Even. Happy as can be._

“Context?” He asks.

I shrug but my face gives me away.

He grins. “You need to get up. Your parents will kill us if we’re late.”

I get palpitations just hearing that. Dinner with my parents tonight. How am I going to explain staying at Even’s for three solid days to Dad?

“Let’s not go.” I suggest.

“Not an option.” Even shrugs off the formal navy button down shirt that he has on and reaches for a polo shirt. More casual.

“They’re like cat and mouse. I have better things to do than watch them fight.”

“Or they’ll have missed you so much that they’ll play nice.”

I think about it. “Doubt that.”

“It’ll be fine, Isak.” He walks up to me. I feel the dip of the mattress as he climbs onto the bed and gets on top of me in one smooth move. “It’s just me coming over to yours for dinner. We’ve done this a million times.”

“But this time it’s different.”

“Because we...?” He raises and lowers his eyebrows.

I nod.

“Don’t treat it any differently.” He suggests as if it’s that easy.

“Then why are you bringing them a present?”

He smiles. “That’s because I am straight up sucking up to them.”

“See.”

He drops a kiss on my lips. “Do you think this top’s okay?”

I smooth it down. “They’re all okay on you.”

“Okay because, honestly, I'm a little nervous too.”

+

Even reaches for my free hand once we get out of his car and walk towards my house.

 

                      (cred in gif)

 

In an alternate universe this is how I would walk up to my parents, hand in hand with him, a ‘zero fucks’ smile on my face. Tonight, however, I nudge him away before my parents get a chance to spy on our intimacy from a window.

Tiny bounds towards us like a tsunami once we step inside and we get into a threesome of kisses, hugs, petting and tugging off our shoes.

Mum and dad are in the kitchen by the stove, shoulder to shoulder. She’s watching as he cooks. They’re chatting. Friendly. Civilised. It’s unexpected but welcome.

It reminds me of when our family was a 3-man unit and not fragments. Tiny’s bark catches my parent’s attention.

“Kiddo!” Mum throws her arms around me and strokes my hair in a way that makes me know that she is simultaneously petting me and trying to tame it.

She pulls Even into an equally vicious hug. “Look at you!” She nods approvingly. “Handsome man!”

“Thanks.” Even looks suitably embarrassed.

“Can you teach my son how to fix his hair please?”

“It doesn’t need fixing.” I pat my hair down. I washed it and let it air dry. What's wrong with that?

“I think he looks-” Even says then clears his throat. “You know. He’s looks fine the way he is.”

“Is that so?” Mum looks at us both with a smile.

I look cautiously at dad.

Dad stares at Even.

Even looks down at his socks and mutters, “Yes.”

WELL, THIS IS AWKWARD AS FUCK.

“So what did you boys get up to these past few days that meant you couldn’t pick up the phone and give us a call telling us you were okay?” Mum asks.

I feel my cheeks go red as Even replies, “We, uh, nothing. We watched movies, swam a little, went hiking, played games. You?”

"I've been catching up with friends mainly but a couple of days ago your dad and I took his new car for a spin. Did you see it parked outside?"

I look at dad, "The Land Rover at the front?” That’s his?

Dad nods proudly.

“Nice car.” Even says.

“You and mum alone?"

Dad laughs, "Don't look too surprised. We had a nice off road trip to see what it could do."

“You two were in a small space together and you didn’t kill each other?”

“We survived.” Mum says.

Even moves away from the subject by choosing the moment to give them his present.

Dad looks at the label of the whisky bottle and whistles. “Wow. With your parents we used to spend evenings working through one of these while you boys played around and had your sleep overs. Thank you.”

Even says. “Mum said.”

Dad proposes a toast. “To my son who has grown into a man I am so incredibly proud of.”

_‘A man I am so incredibly proud of.’_

Would he be so proud if he knew every aspect of me?  Doubt it.

I feel a lump in my throat that doesn’t dissolve with one sip of liquor. It doesn’t go after I empty all the drink down my gullet either. It’s a lump of anxious guilt. A fear that, if I haven’t already, I will soon lose my father’s pride.

+

 

             

             

 

Dinner is great in many ways. We sit outside in the backyard because it is still light and warm. The food is good and mum and dad are being super chill. Even is charming the shit out of them and I can tell that mum, in particular, can’t get enough of him. And yet that lump in my throat stays with me throughout the evening. My brain is in overdrive rehearsing how I am going to come out to dad.

+

**Coming Out Scenario 1-**

“Hey Dad. Nice crunch on the crackling.”

“Thanks, kid.”

“Also… I’m gay.”

-

**Coming Out Scenario 2-**

“Pass me the vegetables please, kid.”

“Sure. By the way, remember how I said that all Even and me did these past few days was game, hike and watch movies? Well, that wasn’t completely true. We had sex too... with each other… like, A LOT OF HOT **GAY** SEX.”

-

**Coming Out Scenario 3-**

I tap my wine glass with a fork and everyone goes silent. I stand up. Clear my throat.

“Dad. I have an announcement to make.”

“Do you have to be so dramatic about it?”

“Yes. I wanted to say that Even and I are together.”

“I can see that.” Dad’s eyes flit between the two of us.

“No. I mean, we are together, together. Like TOGETHER. And we’re happy.” I look over at Even because I realise that we haven’t actually talked about what we are. Friends with benefits? Boyfriends? A couple? What?

“Yeah.” Even gives me a smile and takes my hand. Phew. Cool. “We’re very happy.”

So I turn back to dad. “And you can’t get angry because you're the reason we met and you kept pushing us together.”

-

**Coming Out Scenario 4-**

“I read something the other day.”

“Oh yeah?” Dad says.

“It was a magazine article by a sustainable energy scientist. Shit article but he made an interesting point.”

“Which was?” Mum looks at me with interest.

My eyes are fixed on Dad who is going all in on his plate of food. I try to catch his attention.

“He was talking about how all scientists are interested in is the last paper someone wrote or the research someone is doing or has done.”

“Scientists sound dull.” Dad chuckles and rolls his eyes as he looks at me. “You’re an exception though. You’re fun.”

He winks.

“Yeah. No.” I say. “I mean, I think the point he is making is that it doesn’t matter if you’re a bloke or a woman, old or young, gay or straight, black or white. You’re in the club if you have something scientifically interesting to say. None of that other stuff matters. I thought that was cool.”

“I don’t know about that.”

Mum’s expression is baffled. “You don’t think that’s a good thing?”

Dad puts his fork down and uses his tongue to dislodge some meat that’s got stuck between his teeth.

“What if someone not scientifically minded, like me, walked into a room full of scientists? By your very point I would be seen as inferior because I wouldn’t know what the hell they were talking about. I wouldn’t be sciency enough.”

“Yeah but-”

“The reality is that people, no matter how tolerant they think they are, put themselves into groups. Good, bad or neutral groups. And by being in those group they can feel superior to those who have different views in different groups. For example _Blur_ fans might think  _Oasis_ and their fans suck."

"Who are _Blur_?"

"Exactly. They sucked. Anyway, it doesn't matter. My point is that labelling yourself, pigeonholing yourself stops you from being an individual. You get defined by your group instead. And you can make outsiders to the group feel unwelcome or less worthy or enemies even when you perceive your group to be the underdog. You can tear people apart instead of bringing them together. So, yeah, that’s my take. Can you pass me the salt?”

“Fredrik.” Mum frowns at him. "What does that have to do with the point Isak was making?"

-

**Coming Out Scenario 5-**

“Dad.”

“Yup.”

“There’s something I’ve already told mum and Even… and some of my friends that I want to tell you.”

He looks concerned. “Are you okay? What is it?"

“I wanted to start by saying that I have always known that me and you are completely different.”

“Okay…” Dad looks lost.

“I catch you staring at me as if you’re wondering how the hell you created someone like me. I feel like you would never choose to hang out with me if we weren’t bound by blood. I can see how hard you pretend to care about the things that get me excited but I know you don’t. You love me because I am your son but you don’t like me.”

Dad looks shocked. “Where is this coming from, Isak?”

“Am I wrong?”

“Of course you’re wrong.”

“I’m not and it sucks because I really like you. I have always looked up to you, well apart from when mum left and you didn’t go after her. I always want to impress you but I know that I can’t because nothing that I do or like or talk about is something that you find important.”

“I like that we are different, Isak. The world isn’t fun unless there is contrast. You fascinate me-”

“I’m gay.”

I take a breath. Shit. I have said it. GAY. I have said it out loud to my father.

“Gay?” Dad says the word as if it is foreign on his tongue. As if it is excess saliva ready to be spit out. He leans forward and repeats it. “Gay?”

He pushes his chair back, stands up and storms off into the house.

+

Mum reaches across the table to touch my arm, startling me. “What’s on your mind, kid? You keep blanking out.”

Their dessert plates are empty and they are all looking at me and my untouched plate.

“Nothing.”

“Even, feel his head will you. Is he hot? Is he coming down with something?”

Even feels my forehead. “It feels okay.”

I push his palm off.

She smiles. “Are we boring you then?”

“No.” I sound like I’m twelve because my ‘no’ is basically a ‘leave me alone’.

Even touches my knee under the table. That, I don’t push away.

+

Dad asks me to give him a hand with the dishes which is weird because the dishes could wait until mum and Even leave. Without those two for company, Dad and I fall silent while we clean up in the kitchen.

“You seem out of it tonight.” Dad finally says while washing the dishes and passing them to me to dry. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” I say too quickly to sound sincere.

He clears his throat. “The house has been quiet without you. It made me think of when you’ll be gone.” He looks at me with a deadpan expression. “I’ve already designed how your room will look after I convert it into my man cave!”

“Ha ha.”

He smiles. “Was it just you and Even then? These past few days? I ask because your other friends have been looking for you.”

“No. Yeah. I mean. It was mostly just us.”

“Sure.” Dad’s nodding like those nodding dog toys that people put in the back of their cars. “He’s a nice guy.”

“I guess.”

”You guess?”

“He’s thinks he’s funnier than he is. Like someone else I know.” I look at dad pointedly.

“I don’t know who you mean.”

“He’s vain and extravagant.” I blurt out.

I actually think Even is hilarious, that his vanity has a touch of insecurity and his extravagance is self aware and shared with those he loves. I am poking holes into his character for my Dad’s benefit, to hide how I really feel about Even.

“It could be worse. He could lack intelligence and critical thought.” Dad pretends to shudder. “I know how much that stresses you out about people.”

“True!”

“He'll be a familiar face to help you settle in when you get to Oslo.”

Why is he still talking about him? It makes me nervous. “Eva is moving too. And mum’s there.”

“True but you have a lot more in common with him.”

This is like those moments in movies where a cop stops a car for a random search but that particular car happens to have a murdered body in the trunk and a killer driver who is internally sweating buckets but trying to act chill. The cop walks right up to the trunk. He is about to open it but gets called to an emergency just in time and lets the driver, and his secret, go undiscovered.

My trunk is full of secrets and Dad is circling awfully close to it.

“I think he’ll be too busy with work to hang out with me.” I say.

“He told me he was looking forward to your coming.”

My gut tells me that if there ever was a good moment to tell dad this would be it. He is being cool and seems to have nothing but nice things to say about Even. We’re alone. Hopefully the good vibe will continue AFTER I tell him.

“I have to tell you something, dad.”

There must be something in my tone that grabs his complete attention. It is almost as though he is willing me to speak; invoking me with expectant eyes.

“Shoot.”

“It’s about Even and me. We-” My voice cracks. I wring the dishcloth in my hands so tightly that I can feel the burn in my fingers and the coarse pressure of the textile bruise my palms. I take a breath and close my eyes as I shape the words I want to say next. I rehearse them in my head before saying them out loud.

_I’m gay, dad._

“We aren’t _just_ friends.” I square up to Dad. _Take a breath. Be a big boy, Isak._ “I’m gay, dad.”

Dad face falls and the wet plate that he is holding in his hands slips back into the soapy water in the sink. Disappointment hits as my words hit his cortex.

“Isak.” Dad worriedly nudges me out of my daze.

“Yeah. What?”

“I was saying that since you get on with Even you might find it nice to have him as a ‘go to’ in the city.”

My heart is beating so quickly and loudly that I barely hear him. I nearly told him. FUCK. I feel like I am about to pass out.

“I don’t need Even to show me around.” I manage to say. “And can we talk about something other than him? ”

Dad looks frustrated as we fall into silence again and restart with the dishes.

“Your mum and I went to the coffee shop yesterday. She liked it.” His lips curve up. “We bumped into your friend, Christoffer, there. He was looking for you.”

Chris? WTF?

“He’s not a friend.”

“How come I’ve seen you in the village with him a couple of times. And his dad told me that you were round at his one evening when he got home from work.”

FUCK ME.

“What did he want?”

“Not sure. I told him that you were with Even and that he could try calling you.”

“You told him that?!” I take a deep breath. SHIT. I don’t want Chris to know the ins and outs of my interactions with Even. It’s not his business.

“Have I missed something?” Dad looks confused. 

_That would be the third dead man in my trunk, dad. Chris and I fooled around. Now we’re nothing to each other anymore._

“Doesn’t matter. He’s a dickhead.”

“I’m not a mind reader, Isak. I can’t support you if you don’t tell me anything.”

“Whatever.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing.”

He sighs and shakes his head in defeat. “Fine. Keep not telling me things.”

“What do you want me to say?”

His look is penetrating, as though he knows that I am lying but he doesn’t press. Typical dad. NO FIGHT. JUST SILENCE AND AVOIDANCE.

“Your mother is going back to Oslo tomorrow. I was going to invite her to stay over tonight so that you could spend time with her before she left.”

“Are you okay with her staying over?”

“Yes, she'll take the spare room which means that if your friend is crashing too he'll need to stay in your room.?"

"I don't think Even is staying tonight." 

"He's leaving the day after tomorrow. I would have thought you might want to hang out a bit more.”

“He’s leaving when?”

"He’s flying out to St Lucia from Oslo. I think he brought his original flight dates forward. At least that’s what he told me on your birthday.”

He didn’t tell me. Why didn’t he tell me that he was leaving me in 48 hours?

"Actually, I can’t let him go home tonight. He’ll have had too much to drink. His parents would never forgive me.”

“He’s only had the whisky at the beginning of the evening and half a can of beer because he was planning to drive.”

“But the night is young.” Dad lifts an eyebrow.

+

Dad has cracked open a bottle of _Akevitt_. It isn’t even a special occasion but he said that it felt like a good idea.

By the time we are halfway through the bottle, I look up to notice that the sky has finally gone pitch black and the sound of night insects can be heard over the sound of music coming from the sound system.

The days are already starting to get notably shorter, the weather cooler.

I have shown mum Evan the telescope. Dad and I have shared stories with her from the village. She has given me an update of her life in the city. I have told mum and dad about Even’s hair routine which they find as hilarious as I do. Even got me back though. He revealed how I have eaten all the cheese in his house. And it was a LOT of cheese.

He plays music from his docked phone for us.

“Love Marley." Mums says as she moves to the music.

“Same.” I day.

"Since when have you liked him?” She asks me.

“Forever.” I lie. Since Even made me hear him and I fell in love. I get him to play some more obscure tracks as well as his popular hits:  [Mr Brown](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=amGI5T0JGDc)and [the Heathen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DipcpBDFU_8).

Mum and him come alive when the songs play. They get distracted from our conversation when a particular lyric or hook comes up. Mum closes her eyes and sways in her chair to the pulse of the music, letting its sound wash over her. Even mouths the words to me until he glances at dad and stops dead.

He looks down at his watch.

“Wow.”

“What?” I ask.

“I didn’t notice the time. I should be heading off.”

“Nonsense.” Dad says. He yawns and stretches out. “You can’t drive.”

Even pauses and looks at his hands. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll get a taxi.”

“There’s no need.” Dad says. “I’ve already spoken with Isak. He’s happy for you to crash in his room. Isak?”

I shrug.

Even shrugs.

Dad imitates our shrugs.

“Fine. It’s decided.” He stands up. “I’m going to call it a night. I’m too old to go to bed at 2am on a weekday.” He turns to mum. “I’ll get your room ready.”

"Thanks." She says. "Let me help you."

When they are gone I turn to Even and whisper. "I like you."

He mouths back. "I like you too."

+

I knock on the spare room door and open it after mum says, “Come in”.

My head’s a little fuzzy. My legs don’t quite feel my own. That’s _Akevitt_ for you.

“Hi. I just wanted to say goodnight. Goodnight.”

I start to retreat.

“Not so fast.” Mum looks up from the dressing table where she is using wet wipes to clean makeup off her face. “What a lovely evening. Don’t you think?”

“Yeah. You and dad didn’t kill each other so win.”

She smiles.

“Dad’s already crashed out for the night.”

“Figures.” She replies. “Is Even asleep?”

“No. He’s taking a shower.”

“Come in for a second.” I close the door behind me and take a seat on her bed close to her. “You didn’t tell your dad tonight.”

“I never said I would.”

“No. No. But I figured that since you’ve been staying with Even these past few days you might have been working up to it.”

I wasn’t thinking rationally or in a calculated manner when I was with Even. It certainly wasn’t part of a coming out masterplan. For the first time in a long time I allowed myself to be led by my most basic impulses and instincts rather than my head. I stayed at Even’s place because I felt like it. Full stop.

“I’m worried that all your secrets and silences are starting to put a strain on your relationship with your father. You used to be so close.”

“I will tell him.”

I mean it the way someone with a really bad hangover vows never to drink as heavily again while knowing that it is a promise that has been broken before.

“You keep saying that.”

I huff and mum gives me her mum look. Pointed. Direct. No bullshit. “Your dad is not stupid, Isak. He knows you a lot better than you think. He may already have an idea.”

“I doubt that.” Not with his assumptions about Eva and me.

“And it’s not fair on Even. Look at the position you put him in tonight. He has had to spend all evening trying to hide his feelings for you, poorly I might add. He’s a terrible liar. And I have had to keep your secrets too. I don’t like this.”

“What truth is in his eyes?”

“That he adores you. You must know that.”

Adores. No. I don’t _know_ that Even adores me. Mum states it as fact but where is the proof? Where is the evidence to support the theory?

“He likes me, I think. No. He does like me.” I say.

I know that. But _liking_ doesn’t really mean anything. Liking someone can mean anything. Even said it himself. He liked Iben. He really liked her. He even considered her his friend and he found her hot enough to sleep with more than once. That doesn’t change the fact that in the end he didn’t want to be with her. And now she can’t get within a block of him and she is out of his life.

I could be the new Iben. Likable enough. Fuckable enough. Just not good enough for more. I too will be in his past. Maybe even now, my importance to him could be graded a C, maybe a C+ now that I have slept with him. While his REAL friends, his Oslo buddies and his family, are solid As. I bet he told them that he changed his travel plans in a way he hasn’t felt necessary to tell me.

He probably rates me only slightly higher than one night stands he has had or the boys or girls he’ll pick up for some casual fun in St Lucia, those extra points coming only from me knowing him longer. But if I add up the total amount of time we have actually spent together over the years, 2 weeks multiplied by 12 years which equals 6 months in total then I barely know him.

So maybe he would grade me closer to a C- or D+.

I know for a fact is that he doesn’t like me the way I like him. He’s not going over the nature of our relationship forensically while in the shower the way I am now.

In his mind what are we? Dating? Seeing each other? Boyfriends? Given his history he probably sees us as friends with benefits.

And that’s okay.

Or maybe, on reflection he’ll see see this new arrangement as too complicated and inconvenient and suggest we go back to being friends.

And that’s okay too.

It’s what we’ve been for so long. Also, he’ll be starting a new job and I’ll be starting uni. Neither of us will really benefit from being emotionally tied down.

Friendship is a good option because the relationship we are toying with is dangerous. Getting romantically and deeply involved means hearts can be broken. My heart. Having seen my parents try to mend theirs over the last three years means that I would rather not walk willingly into the same trap they fell for.

It is better that Even doesn’t want to date me.

On the other hand, he did say, “I LOVE YOU” in the tent. Okay he was sleeping or half-asleep and he probably didn’t know he said it or that I heard him. If he remembers, was it a lie or an exaggeration? Was it merely a ‘thank you’? My mates and me use it that way all the time. Like if Mahdi buys me a kebab, I’ll say, “Fuck yeah! I love you buddy.” Was Even really just saying, “Thanks, mate, for keeping me warm in this tent and the sex earlier.”

“Do you know what’s great and at the same time unnerving about loving someone?” Mum says. “It’s that it defies reason. It’s not calculated. You have to lead by the heart and not the head, Isak. Which is hard to grasp for people like you and me.”

“I’m not thinking about love.”

“Okay but if you were to the only advice I would give is to let yourself get taken by it. It is the best feeling.”

“Is that how you felt with dad?”

“Yes. Once upon a time he was my defender even when I hadn’t asked for one because he cared so much for me. He couldn’t stand the thought of me coming to harm. He wanted things to be perfect all the time for you and me. Maybe too much.” Mum smiles with nostalgia. “He was a loyal teammate, Isak. He had my back and I had his.”

“Did Even tell you he is leaving the day after tomorrow?”

Mum shakes her head. “For how long?”

“I don’t know.”

I have regularly gone without seeing him for a year at a time- and yet the thought of saying bye to him this time feels so brutally painful. As if a part of me will be ripped from me.

“You’ll see each other when he gets back.”

That’s true but this feeling, the cousin to grief, is overwhelming and unshakeable.

“Yeah. True. I think I’m tired.” I stand up ready to leave. “I need to get some sleep. See you tomorrow.”

Mum tugs at my t-shirt. “Is this what you wear to bed?”

I look down at my worn _Pokeman_ t-shirt and my mismatching pale blue shorts. “Yes. Why?”

She chuckles and smoothes the material of my t-shirt down. She stares at me the way only mothers have a knack to do when they are trying to search their offspring’s soul.

“Are you and Even using protection when you have sex?"

OH. MY. GOD.

I can’t speak.

“Isak?”

“I heard you, ma.” I feel myself go red.

“And?”

“And nothing. Can we talk about this tomorrow… or never? We had sex ed classes in school so that we didn’t have to be traumatised by our parents trying to give us the sex chat.”

“School does not replace parenting and Even is sharing your room tonight so we’re going to talk unless your father’s already had a conversation with you.”

“Yeah. He did.”

“Lies.”

“He left condoms in my chest of drawers last year.”

Mum shakes her head. “Okay. Listen. Aunt Bettina-” That’s mum’s older sister who works at a sexual health clinic “- showed me a picture of a penis in one of her books, only it didn’t look like a penis anymore.”

She grabs my hand when I try to leave and pushes me back to the sit on the bed.

“Do you know what the penis looked like?”

I shake my head.

“A beef taco. Mangled, ulcerated and bleeding.” She raises a pointed eyebrow.

“Mum. Are you drunk?”

“That is not relevant. And you are too so let me be. Blame your father. Let me finish the sex-eding that I’m doing. The guy that penis belonged to was lucky.”

“I’m not sure he would see it that way.”

“Do you know why he’s lucky?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“Because at least he knew he had a problem and could get it treated. Do you know that the commonest sexually transmitted infections have no symptoms in many people?”

“I get it. Always wear a condom. Etc. Etc.”

“You can get chlamydia in your mouth from oral sex. Did you know that?”

I burst out laughing out of embarrassment.

“I’m being serious, kid.”

“I know. Sorry.” My face is bright red.

“Make sure to go get checked at the clinic with Even. I can make you an appointment with your auntie.”

“I am not going to see Aunt Bettina, mum! I’ll make my own appointment.”

Mum looks disappointed in herself. “I should have spoken to you about sex earlier.”

“It’s fine.” I take a breath. “We’ve been careful.”

“So you are sleeping together.”

“I’m eighteen.”

“I know but you’re my baby.” She leans over and kisses my cheek. “It’s weird.”

+

I walk past the bathroom, where Even is still showering, towards my bedroom. Tiny is already fast asleep by the foot of the bed. I slip into bed and get under the blue sheet covering.

It’s so fucking late. I should sleep. But I am not sleepy. My mind is swirling. This could be the last time Even and I are like this. Together. Everything could change when we are in Oslo. There are too many variables that could pull us apart. I could become the village kid he fucked for a short while and then moved on from. I should take advantage of the final hours we have together before he goes.

I look at the door and slip my t-shirt off. I look at the door again.

_Go to sleep, Isak. Don’t wait for him to come back. Don’t be ridiculous. You are not going to do anything with your mum in the room down the corridor._

I slip out of my shorts and toss them out of bed.

_I’m going to sleep. I’m going to sleep. I’m going to sleep. I am closing my eyes and I am going to sleep. I am not waiting._

What happens tonight will depend entirely on Even. If he makes a move then fine. If he goes to sleep then fine. My hand reaches for my cock. I’ve already got a semi. I don’t want to encourage it but my hand is rubbing it and I can’t help getting turned on.

When he steps into the room I bring my knees up to hide the evidence of my arousal under the tent of sheet.

“You’re still awake.” He says. He towel dries his hair as he looks at me. He’s wearing a pair of my shorts which stop higher on his thigh than they do on me. “I thought you’d be asleep.”

“I’m not sleepy.”

“It’s nearly 3 am.”

“Lock the door, turn out the lights and come to bed.”

He rubs his hair slowly. “Am I your secret lover?”

“Yes.”

“Are you getting a kick out of this sneaking around?”

“Yes.”

No. Ish.

I switch my side lamp on then dip my head under the covers as the room goes dark, save the dim lighting. Even’s footsteps come closer to the bed but he doesn’t climb in.

“I remember this.” He whispers. I poke my head out of the sheets. He’s standing by my bookshelf, finger pressing against a book’s spine. He turns to me. “You were reading it the first time I met you. You were sitting in the corner of the Kayak shop with it.” He picks it up. “It looked almost as big as you.”

“I haven’t noticed it in years.” I say.

He smiles as he gets into bed. “It had your full attention.”

“You distracted me.”

He climbs in and we cloister ourselves under the sheet, our covered bodies making an irregularly shaped shallow tent on my mattress. The light from the bedside lamp and the thinness of the sheet means that our bodies are bathed in a blue hue.  

Even smells as good as he looks. His freshly showered scent is crisp and fresh like the bite of a tangy sweet apple.

“I’m naked.” I whisper. “Just so you know.”

I have NO chill.

“I can see that.” But he keeps his hands to himself, tucked under a cheek while his eyes stay firmly fixed on my face.

“You’re not looking.”

“I am. Trust me. I don’t want to be tempted.”

I take one of his hands, rest it on my chest and drag it down over my skin.

He whispers, “Your mum’s just down the corridor.”

He says that but he hasn’t stopped caressing his knuckles gently over my torso.  

“Did you lock the door?”

“Yes.”

I lean in for a kiss but he pulls away. It’s a good job I have the reflexes of a ninja. I give him a kiss full of intent. I grab a palmful of his buttock. I pull him to me until he feels the firmness of my dick against him.

I whisper, “I want to do it.”

He overwhelms me with his lips, grabs my hips and makes sounds escape my throat when he pushes me to him. Weird pitchy sounds. I bite my lip to shut up until his mouth mutes me with another kiss.

He pushes me away. Pants breathlessly. Wet lips and wide eyes. We are mirror images of each other. Twin hard ons and pent up desire.

“We’re never living this down if your mum hears us.” He breathes.

I hold his dick through his shorts and feel its length. “We’ll be quiet.”

“Can _you_ though?” He looks at me doubtfully. “You get pretty-”

He stops talking for a second because I have pushed his shorts down and I have him in my hand. His voice softens, purrs, “-loud when I-”

“Stop talking.” I kiss him.

“You stop talking.”

“Okay.”

So I go down on him.

“Fuck.” He murmurs as my tongue licks the head of his cock. My wet lips slowly pass over his shaft as I take him into my mouth.

“Fuck… fuck… fuck.”

He whispers it again and again. I depress my tongue, smooth it along the underside of his shaft, feel the throb of the vein there. I love that feeling. I love how when I lap at the head of his cock it jerks and when I play with his balls he hisses in appreciation and when I start creating a rhythmic warm wet pressure along his length he loses tone and thought. I love how he precums more when I look at him as I blow him. How when I take a moment to catch my breath his gaze is unwavering, his hand curls on my cheek and his finger traces my moist lips. He makes a sound that begs me to start again. It summons me back to pleasuring him and when I do it becomes the thing I love to do most in the world. It makes me feel so good and incredibly horny.

My imagination runs wild with visions of him and me. We levitate in a gravitationless cramped spacecraft in the middle of a heated hard impulsive fuck. Quiet and quick to avoid detection by crew mates, my face pressed into his chest so as not to make a sound, my toes curling in delight, while he fills me, ramming into me with passion and force. Zero gravity sex.

I widen my throat around his dick and go down on him further. He squirms, sighs, loses himself in the moment. I want him to purge on desire and feel elevated by lust the way he manages to do with me. I want to make him feel as good as he makes me feel and to take him all the way down my throat.

But I can’t. Close but no cigar. I’m no quitter so I try again. He shudders, seconds away from climaxing. I overreach. His cock hits that sensitive point that generates the most immediate urge to heave. I come off him and retch. LOUDLY. Nothing comes up but I cover my mouth just in case.

Even looks mortified as my eyes become bloodshot and wet with tears as I cough. He throws the bedsheet off us and reaches for the glass of water by my bedside. He soothes my back.

“Sorry.” I whisper after taking a sip.

I must look a fucking mess. Yeesh.

“You okay?”

I nod as my coughing subsides.

“Yeah.” I whisper. “I nearly vomited.”

“Thanks.”

I laugh. “You know what I mean! I should stop being so fucking over-ambitious.”

He laughs and puts a hand over his own mouth to shut up. We lie back in bed and he wraps his arms around me, presses a kiss in my hair then moves his lips to my ear.

“You’re fucking adorable.”

Adorable? That is not what I was going for. Sexy. Hot. Seductive. That was the vibe I was aiming for before I started choking on his dick.

“Let’s start again.” I whisper and reach for it.

“Give me a minute.” He grips my hand. “I was too close.”

Cool. Awesome. Skillz, Isak.

“And I need to tell you something.”

“You’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” He looks confused.

“Dad told me that you changed your flight dates for St Lucia.”

“I was going to tell you but it slipped my mind.”

I shrug. “Let’s face it. St Lucia is so much cooler than here.”

“Have you been?”

I fire him a look that says, _does it look like I’ve been?_

I am kind of impressed at how convincing I am acting; as though I don’t care that he is leaving me soon. What’s the point in making him feel guilty or bad? I have no exclusive rights to him.

“A few days ago the village was the last place I wanted to be, you know, after our fight.”

Oh. “Oh.”

“Yeah. I brought the dates forward by a week.” He nods. “What are you doing today by the way?”

“Hanging out with mum until she leaves I think.”

“Do you want to hang out in the evening? You could stay over at mine before I go?”

“Yeah. Okay.” I snuggle up to him. I’ll miss snuggling up. Feels nice.

“I like when you do that.” He whispers as I feel him plant another kiss in my hair and curl his fingers around it.

So I snuggle up into him some more and kiss his chest and his neck and his jawline.

“I’ll miss that too.” He says.

“You won’t think of it when you’re taking shots of tequila, jet skiing, and dancing all night in the Caribbean.”

“I will.” He _bwinks_. “I’ll dedicate at least 5, maybe 10 minutes a day to thinking of you.”

“So generous!” I pinch his nipple and he squirms.

“Fuck! Ouch!” He grins.

After a moment he pulls me into a bone crushing hug and sighs the heaviest sigh.

“What was that sigh?”

“Just thinking.” He whispers.

“About?”

“About how you’ll have the best time in uni.”

“That’s what they say.”

He’s somber. “They also say that it’s transformative. People find themselves. They grow up. Things will change in your life. You’ll grow out of some things and you’ll warm to new things.”

“What kind of things?”

He plants a smile on his face. “Like, don’t faint with admiration or anything, but I took up debate in my first year. I was vice-president of the university’s team in my final year and we only ever lost one competition in the whole three years I was there. So that was pretty sick.”

“You did debate?”

“Yep.”

“Let me guess your areas of expertise: Classics and food and drink.”

“And I dabbled with film and media.”

“And here I was thinking that you were the coolest. Debate?!”

“Debate is cool!... kind of...”

“I have a debate topic.”

“What is it?”

“This house believes that it is acceptable to have sex in your parents’ house.”

Even barks a LOUD laugh.

“SHUSH!”

“Shit. Sorry.” He whispers. “Okay.”

“Do you want to know my position on the argument?”

“Cowgirl!” He says enthusiastically.

“Haha.” I roll my eyes at him.

“Sorry. Cowboy. You know I’m not lying.”

Silly funny idiot. “I am ‘For’.”

“What’s your argument ‘for’?”

“I think it’s acceptable to have sex in my parent’s house because it feels good and we can be quiet and they will never know, provided you stop laughing out loud. And there is nothing wrong with sex. There is no infringement of law or code. Also my parents used to have sex for years while I was in the house and I never complained.”

Even looks horrified. “Did you catch them?”

“No, but they were married and that’s what married couples do so, duh!”

“Duh is not a point.” He grins.

“But you’ve got to admit I have good points. Also I bet that when I was a baby they did it in front of me because they knew I wouldn’t remember. So my point is that if my parents can have sex in the house then why can’t I?”

“Solid argument.”

“What’s your counter argument?”

“I have none.”

“Oh.”

“I was just waiting for you to finish so I could make a move.”

“Oh.”

He pulls the blue sheet back over us and pulls me to him. “Cowboy, here we come!”

“Idiot.” I whisper before he kisses me.

“I’m kidding. We’re not done trying new shit.”

I shake my head. “True.”

He smiles. “True.”

+

He is not in bed when I wake up but Tiny has her chin resting on the edge of the bed staring at me with tired, judging eyes. Eyes that say,

_What the fuck were you and Even doing together last night? My poor little dog ears and eyes have not recovered._

"Morning, T. Don't look at me like that. I didn't know you saw us. You could have looked away. Perv!" I whisper. "Do you think we woke mum up? No. I don't think so. We were quiet."

I look around. “Where's Even?”

Tiny looks at me then scampers off towards the door and waits there. "Toilet?"

The children’s book that Even was looking at last night on my bookshelf is on the pillow he was using.

I pick it up and discover a folded piece of paper under it.

 

 _Morning/Afternoon_ **_~~sexy~~ _ ** _mate (wink wink!),_

_I didn’t want to wake you up because you looked_

_too cute. Then I realised that_ _you were passed out_

 _after staying up late_ _and drinking too much!!_

 

_Anyway, I have some things to sort out before I leave_

_so I had to get going. Have fun with your mum today_

_and I’ll catch you later._

 

_E x_

 

_P.S. Have you noticed how some kids books have_

_hidden meanings? I scrolled through the book and_

_there is no way a normal five year old could read AND_

_understand it. Am I sleeping with a genius?_

 

I place the note in the book and shimmy over to his side of the bed. I pick up my phone and text.

 

_Fuck yes, you are._

 

_I had a great time last night._

 

_BTW Tiny is traumatised. I didn't_

_realise she was awake. She might_

_need dog psychotherapy after_

_what she saw us do last night._

__

 

 

It is the stupidest thing that I miss him already. That I feel the need to run my hands over and smell the sheets to remind myself of him. That I close my eyes to block out his absence and remind myself of how he was here with me all night.

I open them again.

Enough pathetic behaviour.

Time to get up.

Wear something.

Strip the sheets.

Run to the bathroom to throw them into the washing machine and destroy evidence.

Find my parents with Tiny.

+

Dad is whistling merrily in the kitchen. Actually whistling. He hasn’t done that in ages. He is flitting around grabbing ingredients for a salad and placing them next to a chopping board.

“Alive from the dead.” He says when I walk in and head straight for the fridge to get some orange juice. “It’s past 1 pm.”

I pour myself a glass and down it. “Where’s mum?”

“In the garden picking herbs.” He looks at me and my bed clothes. “We saw Even this morning.”

“Yeah?”

“He had to rush off quite quickly.”

I nod. “He has errands to do before he leaves the village.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yep.” I look away from his gaze. “You?”

“Yep. No complaints.” He spots the book in my hands. “Is that one of your kids’ books?”

“Yes.” I sit at the desk and open it to re-read the note. I can’t help but smile again.

“Not yet grown out of them?”

“Last night Even reminded me that this was the book I was reading the first time his family came to the kayak shop.”

“He’s got a good memory.”

“Yeah.” I fold the note again.

“Is that one of his birthday clues?”

“Hm? Oh. No.” I slip it into the back pocket of my shorts sharpish. “No. He left before I got up so he left a note.”

Or... wait…

I have a look his message again.

_‘some kids books have hidden meanings’_

_‘I scrolled through the book’_

_‘no way a normal five year old could read AND understand it’_

I open the book and scroll through it. There are letters throughout that are circled in pencil. Strung together they generate words and sentences. There is nothing to decipher. It's just a case of lining up the letters in my mind to get his secret message.

“What are you smiling about?” Dad asks.

“Nothing. You're right. It is a birthday clue.” I stand up. "See you in a second."

"Lunch will be ready in ten minutes."

"Okay."

I head out the front door, grabbing my car keys from the bowl at the entrance on my way.

I open the jeep’s door and sit in the driver’s chair. My heart is beating so fucking fast as I reach over to the glove compartment. I open it and within is the envelope that Even gave me on my birthday before taking it back almost immediately.

I rip it open and hold my breath.

I am exploding. My hands are shaking as I reach in.

I see my present before I see the note. It is too much. It is perfect. Who gives a present like this? He is insane. I should have known that this present would outstrip all his past ones. I am going to have to say no. I can’t wait to say thank you. Why is he like this?

The accompanying note just says,

_Please say yes._

The knock on the jeep’s window startles me. It’s mum holding an assortment of herbs in her hands.

I lower the window.

“Hi.”

“Are you okay? I’ve been trying to get your attention.”

I nod numbly. “Even got me a present for my eighteenth.” I show her the envelope.

“That’s sweet. What is it?” She reaches through the window and grabs my wrist. “Actually before I forget. Does Even know about what happened between you and Chris?”

"Why?”

“Ah.”

“Why ‘ah’ ma?” I feel panic rising.

“Well, don't panic but Chris came up in conversation this morning when your dad and I were having coffee with Even. Your dad mentioned that Chris came looking for you at the coffee shop. He told Even that he was surprised when you looked visibly upset and said that you weren't friends with Chris because as far as you dad was concerned he’d seen you hang out with Chris over the course of the last year. Then Even said he didn’t think you had ever been friends with Chris. They both seemed very confused and Even seemed… angry I guess. He left shortly after that.”

WHAT?!

“When did he leave?”

Mum looks at her watch. “A couple of hours ago.”

“Shit! Why didn't you wake me up?”

"Because you would have gotten angry with me for sticking my nose in but it seems I can't do right for doing wrong."

I get out of the car and call Even’s number. He doesn’t pick up.

“Hey. It’s me.” I say as calmly as possible. “Give me a call as soon as you get this.”

FUCK!

Where is he? Has he already found out that I hooked up with Chris? Is he mad at me? Does he hate me?  Does he now think nothing of me for seeking attention from a person who preyed on me?

Mum looks at me calmly.  “You’ve done nothing wrong, Isak. You had a fling-”

I scrunch my face up at the word _fling_.

“- or whatever you want to call it and you called it off well before you cleared things up with Even.”

“I should have told Even. He’ll think I keep secrets.”

“You do.”

My face falls even more.

“And maybe this is a lesson to you that they’re not worth keeping.” She says. "Look. He couldn't have figured it out before he left because he left you the birthday present right?"

I nod.

She goes pensive. "I think he thinks Chris is still bullying you. That's why he left angrily."

She's right. Even interpreted Chris looking for me at the shop and 'hanging out' with me in town as ongoing harassment.

“Do you think he'd confront Chris about it?" Mum asks.

"I don't know." I say.

I could intercept Chris if Even did try to confront him. I call Chris.

His phone rings a couple of times before he picks up.

"Hello." He says.

"Hi. It's Isak."

"I didn't think I'd hear from you again."

"You were at the coffee shop looking for me."

"Yes. I didn't think you would ever pick up my calls so I thought I’d come find you. Anyway, I bumped into your parents."

"That's why I am calling. What did you want?"

"I've been thinking about us and about how I behaved with you the last time we met. I was thinking about how I would really like a fresh start. We never were right for as long as we have known each other and I wanted to see if you wanted to draw a line under the sand." He says. "I know I am asking a lot but I wanted to put the past in the past and see if we could be friends."

"You acted like a dick at my birthday."

Mum gives me a smile and a nod like 'that's my boy'.

"Yeah. I know. I know. I was hurt when you said you didn't like me and you didn't want to hook up with me anymore so I lashed out. I was a dick. You're right. I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said."

I take a breath. I don't know if I can trust him. Once bitten. Twice shy.

"I want to be honest from now on, Isak."

"Same."

"The truth is that I meant what I said when I said that I like you a lot. I think you're cool. And it's been screwing with my head because I'm not into dudes and I feel sick thinking about it because I'm into you and then my head is a mess again. But it's how I feel. So I came to the shop to tell you. And I am not going to take it back because I'm scared like I did last time."

I look at mum. She is looking at me expectantly.

Chris sighs. "And I am not expecting anything from you either. I know that you're with that rich kid from the hill."

"How do you know?"

"Your parents told me you were staying with him and, well, let's just say, he made it very clear when he came over about an hour ago."

"He-. What?"

FUCK.

"He fucking tore into me, dude. He told me to back off you and keep my distance and if I touch you again he'll fuck me up. Shit, he might be weedy but he is fucking menacing." Chris says. "He had me pinned to a wall."

My body runs cold. "What did you tell him?"

"That we were through. I told him that you made it very clear at your birthday that you didn't want anything romantic or sexual anymore with me." He says. "That seemed to do it. He let me go and left."

"He thought you were still bullying me. That's why he was angry." I say, but my voice is as weak as my body. "He didn't know about us."

There is silence from the other end.

"Oh. Shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry there is so little forward movement with this chapter. My eye has had to come off the ball with fanfic writing.
> 
>  
> 
> WTF is in the envelope?  
> Where is Even?  
> What will Isak's favourite position be?


End file.
